The annoying things that I love the most
by Love2readaway
Summary: As it is, most of his flaws are the things that she loves the most about him. FUNNY AND SWEET SHORT ONE-SHOTS.
1. (IN)DEPENDENT

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

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1.(IN)DEPENDENT

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A loud pounding on the door woke her from her deep slumber. Kate peeked at her alarm clock. 2:58 am. She checked her cell phone in case she had missed any calls from the precinct. _Nope, nothing._ The knocking echoed through the quiet apartment again. With great effort, she got out of bed and stumbled in the dark to the foyer. Opening the front door a crack, Beckett peered out into the hallway. _Castle, of course_.

They had closed a case just a few hours ago and it had worn them all out. Castle and she had agreed that each would sleep in their own homes. They couldn't be together 24/7. As much as she loved him, it wasn't healthy for their relationship, especially at its early stage. They'd been together for four months and she could count with the fingers of her hands the nights they had spent apart. She still had some digits to spare. They needed some boundaries, be able to be alone for a few hours from time to time. They needed some peace and quiet, more she than he. She was used to her independence and the last few months not only had he kept following her every move around work, they now spent most of their free time together. So, she thought, a few hours of rest should do them good.

Apparently Castle wasn't keeping _his_ part of the bargain. He stood in the hallway in his PJs, and pouting at her with puppy-dog eyes and bed hair. She rolled her eyes at him and sighed in exasperation. Closing the door, Kate waited a long moment before removing the security chain —just to make him suffer—, and opened it again. She put both her hands on her hips and bore him with a cold glare. He stood speechless as he bit down on his lip, looking all miserable.

"And?" she snapped. "Where's the emergency?" she asked with irony.

His gaze flicked to his hands for a second before looking up at her again.

"I missed you…" he mumbled. "I couldn't sleep." Beckett waited for the rest she knew was coming. "…Can I come in?" Castle murmured pitiful.

She scowled at him for a very long minute. He just stood there very still, looking like an innocent kid who had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. She knew _he knew_ there was the possibility she would send him back home and not feel remorse at all. She _should_ send him home. Instead, very slowly, she moved aside to let him through. Castle took a hesitant step forward before he hurried inside, and Kate locked the door behind him. Without glanzing at him, she walked past Castle and got back into bed. Entering the bedroom, she heard him shuffle his feet across the floor, take off his shoes, and then he lay down next to her under the covers. Rolling onto her side, Beckett turned her back to him. He didn't move for a few minutes. She could barely hear him breathe. But when she thought he had been punished enough, she reached back and, taking his hand, she put his arm around her waist. Castle immediately snuggled behind her and held her close. Kate felt him burrow his face into her hair and breathe in her scent, and then he brushed a kiss on her jaw. Reaching down, she patted Castle's hand on her stomach and laced her fingers with his.

"Didn't see you brought anything with you…," she wondered. "Just out of curiosity… You planning on going in your pajamas to work tomorrow morning?"

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**So, I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading!**


	2. (IR)RESPONSIBLE

**This is dedicated to _shazam12_ who gave me the idea. I really hope you like it, and hope that it was the best choice of the many plots that developed from the idea.**

******Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

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2.(IR)RESPONSIBLE

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She sat on the couch, her legs pulled under her. They'd been working on this case for the past four days with no results or solid leads to follow. So she'd taken home copies of everything they had on the case. She was surrounded by notes, documents, photos and reports. All the stuff lay scattered around her, next to her on the couch, the coffee table, on her lap…

The loft was dead quiet. She was very concentrated on the file she was holding in her hands, a crease between her brows and chewing on her lower lip. Totally immersed in her task, she only saw the words and numbers printed on the white sheet of paper.

A loud bang echoed in the living room. She jumped at the sound, sending half the documents around her to the floor.

"Jesus!" she uttered, looking up. Castle was standing right next to her. He'd dropped, loudly, something on the coffee table in front of her. He was wearing his laser tag vest and goggles.

"You scared the hell out of me!" she said as she slapped his thigh with the back of her hand.

"Sorry," he chuckled amused. She sent him a deadly look that immediately wiped the smirk off his face.

"What is this?" she said pointing at his outfit.

"Laser tag," he said matter-of-factly.

"I can see that. Why are you wearing it? I thought you were busy writing the new book. You know? The one that was due two weeks ago."

He completely ignored her comment. "Suit up, we're gonna play," he spoke happily.

"I'm working, and so should you!" Kate said.

"Oh, come on! Just for a little while. I have writer's block. I've been staring at the blinking cursor for 40 minutes. I need distraction," he pouted.

"I don't play." He cocked a brow, bewildered, and she read the look on his face. Well, yeah, he'd mentioned playing when he'd called, begging for her to spend the night, but she thought, that by _playing_, he'd meant something else. "We, no sorry I correct myself, _I_ am a grown-up, a very busy grown-up. I have to go through 5 months of the victim's phone records. And, if I remember correctly, you said you'd help me once you finished writing, which is why you left the precinct early today, what made you miss me, which is what made you beg me to come here in the first place."

"….Uh, you lost me," he murmured.

"What I'm saying is NO", she patted his ass, "now go get your writing done mister so you can help me with these," she gestured around her.

"Please? Just 15 minutes, pretty please?" he tried. She just stared blankly at him, one brow raised. He kneeled down beside her, taking off the goggles so he could look at her with puppy-dog eyes. She shook her head, so he tried a different approach.

"You're just afraid to lose," he said with an air of smugness.

"I'm not gonna fall for that old trick, _Ricky_." His name came out in a purr.

"No, I get it. I've had years and years of practice to perfect my game. You just can't stand to loose." She leaned in, their faces a foot apart.

"Stop it!" she warned him.

He continued as if she'd said nothing. "You can't admit that someone may actually be better than you." They stare at each other for a moment. His cocky stance made her answer in kind.

"I could win you with my eyes closed," she growled.

"Wanna bet?" he said.

She pondered. "I win, you do my paperwork for a month," she said with a grin.

One corner of his lips turned up into a crooked grin. "I win," his eyes flicked down her body for a second, "you add my name to that tattoo of yours, _honey._" He smiled widely, wiggling his brows, as her jaw dropped.

"What? No!" she backed away. "No way!" she shook her head wildly.

"Ha! I knew it!" he pointed a finger at her. "Afraid that I'll win." She leaned in again until their noses touched.

"Fine! I'm gonna kick your ass!" Kate threatened.

"Bring it on!" he smirked, "but first, let's play."

She snatched the gear from the coffee table as she stood up. She started pulling the vest on, but found herself not knowing where every buckle went. He stepped in to help her.

"Let me. It's a new model. I got it for you last week. Wanted to have your own set, instead of borrowing Alexis'," he explained as he bonded all the couplings. When he was done, one of his hands found its way under her shirt and stroked the skin over her stomach. She slapped the hand away. Kate walked over to the switch and turned the lights off. Darkness surrounded them, the only light coming from the bright city outside, and the flashing blue and red of their vests and goggles.

"Kate, we'll see nothing, and you'll stumble over the furniture."

"Of course not! I know exactly where everything is," she defended herself. Her admission of knowing his place like her own woke a warm feeling that filled and stirred him inside.

The game began as each ran to find a hiding place and start a defense attack. Castle slipped into his office, while she moved to duck between one of the columns in the living room and the couch. From that spot, she could see the whole of the room reflected on the windows to her right. After a minute she saw the blue lights of his vest mirrored on the glass. He stopped behind the first pillar, and she noticed him checking both sides before he started moving towards the kitchen. Silently, she crawled around the column and lowered herself. She waited a second and then she spun around fast, pointed her gun at him and shot. Caught off guard, he screamed like a girl.

"Ha! Who's the queen of the game now, _honey_!" she gloated.

"That's just beginners luck. How about two outta three," he proposed.

"You're on!" She was getting animated, this was fun.

As it happened, he won the second game. She had to win the third; she was so not gonna tattoo his name on her body.

Kate had managed to sneak past him, slowly approaching from behind, but when she was about to shoot, he spun around and they were both hit at the same time. The surprise had her trip over the rug, and crushing into him, they both fell to the floor, she landing on top of him.

"Guess we're even," she laughed. He reached up and removed her goggles, looking at her in wonder. She smiled sweetly down at him, her eyes glistening in the darkness. With his hand, he brushed her hair aside and tucked it behind her ear.

"Kiss me," he whispered. Seeing the fire in his eyes, her expression turned serious as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. They kissed softly for a moment, before he flipped them over and pressed her back to the floor. He deepened the kissed and a moan resounded at the back of her throat. Reaching down, she unbuckled his belt.

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Four hours later, they found themselves on the couch, blinking the sleep away. Castle had found a possible lead and Beckett had texted the boys asking to bring in a possible suspect first thing in the morning. Even so, she wanted to be thorough and finish going over the last couple of phone record sheets. At almost three in the morning, when they were done, her head tilted to one side and she fell asleep before her cheek touched his shoulder. He gently laid her down on the couch and placed a pillow under her head. Seeing she was only wearing one of his oversized T-shirts and panties, he covered her with a blanket. He brushed the hair from her face, kissed her lips softly and walked to his office.

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The alarm of her phone woke her at 7:00 am. As she turned to reach for her beeping cell, she almost fell off the couch. She sat upright and took in her surroundings. Still in her slumber, the memories from last night slowly made their way to her brain. She threw her legs over the edge of the couch and padded barefoot to his study. Stopping at the threshold, she saw him asleep by his desk. She walked over to him and a chuckle almost escaped her lips at the scene. His head lay on his arms and he was drooling over the keyboard of his laptop. Drawn by his peaceful face, she brushed her thumb over the dark circle under his left eye, the other being hidden under his elbow. Her gaze shifted to the screen; a window message indicated his mail had been successfully delivered. He'd managed to finish the last chapters after all.

Lowering her face to his, she whispered near his ear, "Castle…let's get you into bed."

She helped him up and they stumbled to the bedroom. When his back fell onto the mattress, she pulled the comforter over his sleeping form and wiped away the drool from his cheek.

"You owe me a rematch," he mumbled in his sleep. "I want my tattoo." She couldn't help it and laughed to herself.

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**Thank you!**


	3. (IN)SENSIBLE

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

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3.(IN)SENSIBLE

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The clock at the corner of her screen said it was 11:46 am. Just a little longer and they could go have lunch. She'd been confined to desk duty, doing paperwork all morning, while he'd been entertaining himself. He'd spent the first hour staring at her, until she directed a _stop it_ glare at him. Then he'd started drawing pictures and wasted two whole post-it pads from her desk. _So much for coming to help her and keep her company._ All he'd been doing for the past twenty minutes was smile foolishly at the screen of his phone. Every few seconds she would glance at him from the corner of her eyes, suspicious of the goofy grin plastered on his face. A couple of minutes later a chuckle escaped his lips and she gazed up. She saw something in his eyes as he deliberately diverted his gaze away, avoiding her scrutinizing look. She knew perfectly that mischievous stance of his.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"What?" he tried to look innocent as his eyes flicked up to hers. "Nothing, nothing… Just going through my mail," he said, his eyes fixed on his cell again.

"Mmm…." She hummed leery. She turned her attention back to the screen, pretending to work as she moved her fingers over the keyboard. She peeked at him once more. His lips were tightly pursed, trying to muffle a laugh, his eyes glistening wickedly. She counted mentally to 10 and then quickly snatched the phone out of his hands.

"Hey, hey… Beckett," he complained.

"OH MY GOD!" she gasped as she looked at his phone. She was seeing herself on the screen, only she was at his place, sitting in one of his armchairs while watching TV, wearing just one of his button-downs. "Castle!" she hissed, hitting him with an angry look. But as her finger brushed over the screen, a whole collection of pictures and videos appeared. A furious heat spread through her body as she saw the array of photos he had taken of her without her knowledge. Pictures from her at both their places, sleeping, cooking, reading, napping on the couch, brushing her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror, sitting at her desk here at the precinct, at his desk in his loft…

Making sure no one was near them, she said through clenched teeth, "Break room, _now_!"

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She stormed past him, bumping her shoulder to his as she did, and waited for him to follow her, closing the door behind him.

"Richard Edgar Castle!" she growled. _Oh, she'd used his whole name_, he thought. _This was really, really bad. She was past furious._

"What the hell is this!" she barked, pointing a finger to the smartphone in her hand, a close-up of her sleeping face on the screen. He knew there was no way out of this. His brain froze, no words came out of his mouth, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off her. It was then when he finally understood the meaning of _if looks could kill_. Now, as he looked at her, he knew she was one of those who could kill with just one glance, the one that she was fixing on him right now. He recoiled back as she took a step forward and poked him in the chest.

"Have you completely lost your mind? We're both on probation! If Gates catches you with these-" she waved the phone in front of him, "you're out, _we're out_!" she hissed, trying not to be overheard. That's what made it all the more terrifying, that she wasn't yelling her anger out of her lungs.

"We" she motioned between them, "agreed that we, and by that I mean _you_, were more than capable of keeping our relationship strictly professional while at the precinct. No one can know about us, not yet, while we're being watched closely!" She was so enraged, she was breathing heavily, and he could feel her warm breath on his face.

"So… you're not mad because of the pictures?" he mumbled pitifully. The crease between her brows deepened. _Oh, oh… bad thing to say_, he thought, as she pressed her body to his. He tried to step back, but found himself trapped between her and the fridge. The door's handle pushed painfully into his back.

"Did you just listen to what I said?" her voice raised an octave.

"Yes, yes! I have to keep my private life to myself and out of the precinct, _and_ stay professional." She stared at him, pondering if he really meant what he was saying. He continued, "I'm sorry, really sorry. I'll put the phone away and I'll help you with the paperwork."

"_And_ delete the pictures," she added as she handed him the phone.

"What? Oh please no," he pleaded.

"Castle… If-" he cut her off.

"Please Kate, they're so cute, too cute. I promise not to look at them. Here," he held out his cell to her, "you can keep the phone and give it back to me later."

She looked at the phone he was offering, and then at his honest face. She slowly reached for the smartphone and took it.

"I could delete them myself," she said more calmly. She held his gaze for a second and then slid the phone inside the front pocket of his pants. "I'm hungry. Let's have some lunch."

She exited the room, and getting her purse, she crossed the bullpen to the elevator.

"Why do I put up with you," he heard her murmur under her breath and wasn't sure if she'd meant for him to hear it. He took a step closer to her and grazed his hand over the back of hers.

"Because you love me," he whispered in her ear. She gave him a quizzical look and sighed.

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The elevator doors opened and they stepped in. When the doors shut, she turned to him, "Who gave you permission to take all those pictures," she asked arching her brow.

"I love you so, so much, I have to carry you with me at all times, everywhere I go. I want memories of every look on your face, of every moment of happiness." He brought his hand to her cheek and bored her with his warm penetrating blue eyes. _He could be really sentimentally sappy sometimes_, she thought. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

"That is one of the most lamest and cliché excus-"

He silenced her as he crushed his lips to hers. She felt herself being pressed against the wall as he devoured her mouth. He kissed her with so much passion she felt her knees buckle under her weight. When the elevator slowed down, he broke the kiss and stepped back. She panted out of breath, speechless. The doors opened. He crossed the lobby and, for once, she was the one following him. Outside, he turned right to go to their usual place, but she took hold of his wrist and stirred him in the other direction and towards a cab parked a few yards away.

"Where are we going?"

She shyly smiled at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Once inside the car, she gave the cab driver her address and eased back in her seat.

"I thought you were hungry?" he whispered confused.

She leaned in close to his ear and purred, "I'm hungry for something else."

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**Liked it? ****Please forgive any mistake. If you find any, I would appreciate it if you'd let me know! Thanks again!**


	4. CARE(LESS)

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

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4. CARE(LESS)

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She'd woken to a gray and rainy Friday. Two days earlier the city had been surprised by a cold wave. The temperatures dropped to a max of 56 and gave the month of October a wintry feel. It was mid-morning, she was at the precinct and Castle hadn't showed up yet. Without a new case, all she could do was catch up with the pile of paperwork she'd been putting off all week. The good thing was that, with a bit of luck, she wouldn't get a case today and would be free all weekend.

"Hey Beckett!" came the boys' voices in unison from across the bullpen.

"Where's Castle?" asked Ryan.

"Avoiding his share of paperwork again, uh?" Esposito mocked.

"That wouldn't surprise me one bit," she agreed. "But he didn't say anything about not coming in today."

The boys shrugged and turned their heads back to their work. She got up and walked to the break room, phone in hand. As she waited for the espresso machine to make her some coffee she texted Castle. Back at her desk, she took another folder of files while she sipped on the warm, creamy latte. Five minutes later her cell beeped, announcing she had a new text message. It was from Castle.

"_Sorry. Not feeling so well."_

"_You need anything?"_ she texted back.

"_No. I'm OK. Just a cold. Have a case?"_

"_Nope, just paperwork,"_ she answered.

"_Good. Call you later."_

Though he said he was okay, she couldn't help but feel a bit restless. Martha had left town the day before. She was on a business trip all weekend and with Alexis in college, Castle was home all alone. So Beckett decided to stop by at the loft after work to check on him.

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At 4 in the afternoon, he still hadn't called her and when she speed-dialed his number he didn't answer. The restlessness had turned into anxiety. Being unable to concentrate, she shut down her computer and told the boys she was leaving. If they needed anything or if, _fingers crossed_, a body dropped, they should call her. She gathered up her things and headed out.

On the elevator ride up to the loft, she thought he must be asleep and therefore did not pick up his phone. Still, she needed to make sure he was fine. Kate knocked on his door and waited. A minute passed. She knocked again and buzzed the bell, and strained her ears for any noise. It was dead quiet. Beckett reached for her key —the one he'd given her a month ago and she had only accepted for emergencies. When she was about to slide the key in the hole, the door opened a crack. She slowly pushed it and was faced with a heartbreaking sight. Castle looked awful. His face was pale, he had dark rims under his eyes, his forehead was coated with small beads of sweat, and his hair was ruffled and damp at the roots. He wore sweats and was wrapped in two blankets.

"Hey," he whispered with a husky voice.

Kate walked inside and closed the door. "Oh, honey," she cooed as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his cheek. His skin was very warm. Stepping back, Beckett brought a hand to his forehead. "You're burning up!" she said alarmed.

"I…" He looked confused, his eyelids fluttering shut.

"Come on, you need to rest." Putting an arm around his waist, she guided him to the bedroom. He leaned most of his weight into her. She then helped him lie under the covers and sat down next to him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was laboured and shallow. "Rick? Where do you keep your medicine kit," she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Upstairs bathroom," he breathed out.

"Be right back."

She found the kit, grabbed a couple of face cloths from the cabinet under the sink, and stopped at the kitchen for a glass of water. Back in his bedroom, Beckett sat on the edge of the bed and opened the kit on her knees. Taking the thermometer, she checked his temperature first. 103º. Bad, she thought. Kate got him to swallow down two tablets of Tylenol with some water, and then, dampening a face cloth under the bathroom's sink tap, she wiped the sweat off his flushed face and neck. Castle turned his head to one side and squinted his eyes.

"Too much light?" she murmured gently, running her fingers lightly through his hair. "You want me to close the blinds?"

"I'm okay," he answered with a weak voice, his eyes falling shut again.

"Okay." Beckett stood up to leave but he took hold of her hand.

"Stay," he whispered, his eyes blinking open. "Please?"

"Yes," she nodded. Taking off her shoes, she climbed onto the bed and sat leaning against the headboard. Castle moved closer to her, snuggling against her side, wrapping his arm around her waist, and resting his head on her chest. She smiled and put her arm around him, running her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He quickly fell asleep; his breaths became rhythmic and deep. This could be a very long afternoon. Kate spotted a book on the night stand and reached for it. Pressing her cheek to the top of Castle's head, she opened the cover, flipped to the first page and started to read.

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An hour later, Castle began to shiver and mumble nonsense in his sleep so Beckett checked his temperature again. 104º. This was really bad. She wrapped the sheets and blankets tightly around him and walked out into the living room. She pulled her phone from inside her purse and called Lanie.

"Hi girlfriend! What's up?" the ME answered cheerfully.

"Hi Lanie. I'm worried about Castle. He's sick and has a very high fever and—"

"Hey, hey! Not so fast," Lanie cut her off. Kate started explaining the situation again. "OK, don't panic," Lanie said trying to calm her friend. "You gave him Tylenol?"

"Yes, an hour ago. But the fever has risen."

"Alright, you must keep him hydrated. Lots of fluids. Chicken soup is good too. Uh... if he has trouble breathing, a steam shower is very effective to clear his air ways," Lanie suggested.

"Okay, yeah..." Kate nodded and made a mental note of everything.

"Alright, listen. If he doesn't get any better in three hours or so, call me, OK?"

"Thanks Lanie."

"Don't worry, he'll be fine. Look at it from the bright side. It's good practice for you," Lanie chuckled.

"Practice? If he gets sick again?" Kate asked confused.

"Him or… your _children,_" Lanie teased.

"_Children?_" Beckett choked out.

"Bye, mommy!" And Lanie hung up, laughing.

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Kate found all the ingredients in Castle's overstocked fridge and did her best to remember how her mother used to make chicken soup when she was little. When she tasted what she had prepared it was actually pretty good. She filled a bowl and headed back to the bedroom. Castle was still sleeping but Beckett noticed his breathing sounded more congested than before. Placing the soup on the nightstand, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water from the shower so the room would start filling up with steam. Back in the bedroom, she woke Castle gently and made him eat some soup. After that, she led him into the bathroom and made him sit down on the toilet. It was so hot in there she got rid of her pullover, leaving on a thin strapless shirt she was wearing underneath, and she helped Castle take off his sweater as well. She then knelt between his legs and gently rubbed his thighs and arms. He rested his head against the wall and kept his eyes closed. His cheeks were very flushed, both from the fever and the heat inside the bathroom.

After fifteen minutes, Castle's head started bobbing forward, so Kate closed the faucet and, helping him into a clean set of pajamas, she brought him back to bed. He was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

She took his temperature once more and noted that it had come down two degrees. Relief washed over her. And something else stirred inside. She didn't really know what it was, but it was a warm feeling. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched Castle's peaceful face. He was feeling needy and she was exactly what he needed. That's what the warm feeling fluttering inside her chest was. It made her feel good that she was needed and that she was good at taking care of him. She _liked_ it, she wanted to be there for him.

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Castle opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. The morning's first sun rays streamed in through the windows. The clock on the bedside table read 7:18 am. Castle turned his head and saw Kate lying next to him. She was still in her work clothes and had both her arms thrown up above her head. Castle scooted closer, propped himself up on one elbow, and rested his head in his hand. He loved watching her sleep, especially when she did funny things with her face. Like right then, when the corners of her lips twitched up into a sweet smile. Ever so gently, careful not to disturb her, he leaned in and brushed his lips over the exposed soft skin of her upper arm. She breathed in a sigh but didn't wake. He continued to place tender kisses up and down her arm. Kate suddenly stirred and, blinking her eyes open, she found his face. Castle smiled down at her and she grinned back.

"Hi," she murmured, her voice deep with sleep, and then yawned and stretched her limbs. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," he answered.

She brought her hand up to his forehead. "You're not feverish anymore." She ran her fingers through his tangled hair.

"But…" he wrinkled his nose and arched his brows in an awkward expression. "I'm still sick."

She frowned confused. "You look much better. You still have a headache or something?" He shook his head no. "Then, what?" she asked.

"I have heartache," he breathed out, wincing while he placed a hand on his chest. Alarmed, Beckett quickly sat upright and her eyes opened wide with shock. Castle smiled and added with a chuckle, "I'm love sick."

"You idiot!" She snatched a pillow and hit him with it. Laughing, Castle stole the pillow from her hands and tackled her, pressing her back flat against the mattress. "Castle," she wrestled, "Get off me!" The dark scowl on her face disappeared when Castle tickled her left side with one hand, making Kate arch her back and twist her torso away from his teasing fingers. "No! Stop! STOP!" she laughed, squirming under his weight.

"There's only one remedy for it," Castle told her, leaning down close to her face. "Lots of kissing and cuddling." And before she could object, he crushed his mouth onto hers.

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**Thank you :)**


	5. (UN)APPETIZING

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

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5. (UN)APPETIZING

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"Oh, good! You're here._ Finally_," Castle called when he saw Beckett walk in through the front door. They'd left the precinct separately. He had headed home and she had wanted to stop by the morgue to see if the ME had anything new on the victim.

"Well…, Lanie and I got talking. And then I had to swing by my apartment to get some clean clothes," she said.

Castle set a plate on the counter and hurried to her side. She barely had time to put down her purse and bag when he grabbed her hand, dragged her to the kitchen and made her sit down on a stool. The chair was turned sideways and Castle stood in front of her. To Kate's left, on the countertop, were several covered dishes. "What's all this?" she asked wary.

"Research! I came up with an idea for the new Nikki Heat book. But would like to test it with you first," he explained excited. She removed her jacket and hung it over the back of the stool. When Castle started to pull off her boots, Beckett looked down at him, her brows raised questioningly. "You need to be comfortable," he said.

"You haven't explained what this _experiment,_" she made quotation marks in the air, "is about. And I haven't agreed to it yet," she told him.

"So, OK. I've cooked several…things, _dishes,_ and I just need you to taste them." Before she could object he added, "Nothing funny, just some regular recipes from some regular cooking book." He held his right hand up as if swearing in front of a jury. "Promise."

She peered to her side again and eyed a long piece of dark velvet. "What's that for," she gestured to the fabric.

"A blindfold," he answered sheepishly. "I need you to taste only with, well, your taste."

"You are _not_ going to put that on me," she said shaking her head.

"Oh, come on Beckett! Look at me. Don't you trust me?" He lowered his face so their eyes were level. Her face was a mask of suspicion. "It's not like I'm gonna _tie_ you to the chair or anything. If you get uncomfortable or wanna stop, you just say so, _do so_." She pondered and studied him for a moment. "Please?" he pouted.

"Okay," she accepted. He punctuated his "_Yes!"_ with a fist bump, but froze mid-air. "_But._ Any monkey business, I'm out the door, and you're grounded for a week," she warned him.

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Castle reached for the blindfold and, moving behind Beckett, he covered her eyes with it. "Is it too tight?"

"No, it's fine," she said, adjusting the dark fabric around her eyes.

"Good." He stood in front of her again and held three fingers up. "How many fingers do you see?"

"Three?" she shrugged.

"...Yeah?! Can you see through—"

"It was just a lucky guess, Houdini," she mocked.

"Alright..." He uncovered the first plate and took a piece of food with his fingers. "Open your mouth, Kate," he whispered. She hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh and slowly opened her mouth. He placed the appetizer on her tongue, his fingers brushing her lips as he did. Tentatively she tasted, chewed and swallowed.

"Am I supposed to say something or guess what it—"

"Whatever you want," he said. "It's part of the test. To see, watch how you react."

"Okay… Not really sure what the purpose of this project is but," she mumbled to herself. "I like the fluffy texture, the creaminess. There's a hint of sweetness… I think I taste cheese too…" It wasn't so bad, she thought.

"Okay…, next."

He placed the small toast with _foie_, balsamic cream and raisins in her mouth. As she tasted and moved the food around with her tongue, something woke inside her. It was tantalizing, exciting… The thrill of not knowing what he was giving her, the blind trust she had on him. The fact that Castle was feeding her with his fingers, that he was watching her intently, studying her with every bite she took, observing the movement of her lips and the stretching of the skin on her neck when she swallowed…. She found the act _arousing_. Inadvertently, with every bite, she found herself slowing her moves, making them more sensual, sexy, appealing… The mixed flavours —sweet, salty, spicy…—, and the various smells, all combined with the hint of his warm scent every time he approached her to put food in her mouth, _on her tongue_… This was something new and she was starting to like it. The sound of his soft, deep voice —something between a murmur and a whisper—, the expectance in every breath he took when he delicately brought something to her mouth. A sigh now and then that escaped his lips and a moan that echoed once at the back of her throat as she swallowed… Heat slowly spread through her body, awakening her senses, sending a shiver down her spine. Her heartbeat picked up and her breathing became shallow.

"This is the last one," Castle murmured. "My favourite too." It was cold —but not too cold—, creamy, with an edge of bitterness from a raspberry, and so, so sweet…

All of a sudden, Kate felt Castle's warm lips on the corner of her mouth, and then, just as fast, they were gone. She lifted one side of the blindfold and peeked with one eye.

"You had some custard on your lip," he stuttered. "So… Is there any you'd like to have some more of?" he asked.

She pondered, slowly licking her lips, _savoring_. "Mmm… Yes." Taking off the blindfold, Beckett reached forward, grabbed the collar of Castle's shirt and crushed him to her. She desperately devoured his mouth, her arms snaking around his neck and her fingers tangling in his hair. He was right there with her in an instant, matching her passion and frenzy. Lifting Kate off the stool, Castle sat her down onto the breakfast bar.

"We've never done it in the kitchen before," he mumbled, pulling his mouth off hers.

"What was the purpose of the experiment?" she asked and then moaned when his teeth grazed over her pulse point.

"Uh-uh. You'll have to read it in the book," he panted and brought his mouth back to hers. His hands tugged at the hem of her top and pulled it over her head. Her fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons of his dress shirt.

The sound of keys in a lock, followed by a door opening and footsteps, travelled from the entrance to them...

"Oh dear!" Martha exclaimed.

They pulled apart instantly.

"Mother!" Castle gasped, out of breath. Kate jumped off the counter, crossed her arms in front of her bra, and hid behind Castle, feeling herself blush deep red. "We were just—"

"Oh darlings, I'm so sorry!" she chuckled amused. "Don't mind me, I'll go and leave you to… Well... Bye!" She turned around and left, softly closing the front door behind her.

Kate pressed her forehead to Castle's back, her eyes closed. "Oh my god!" she murmured, utterly embarrased, into the fabric of his shirt. He turned to face her. His eyes were wide open. "Your mother—" Kate choked out. "She just walked in on us."

They stared at each other, both their faces reflecting the same shock, and then exploded into laughter.

"I'm definitely including this in the new book."

* * *

**Thanks! See ya :)**


	6. (UN)FORGIVING

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

6. (UN)FORGIVING

* * *

Castle stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to her floor. He couldn't be in a better mood. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he watched as the bright numbers above the doors rose. He crossed the hallway to her apartment, knocked three times and waited. She immediately swung the door open, almost as if she had been waiting for him.

"Hello beautiful!" he grinned and she answered with a dazzling smile.

"Hi! I need two more minutes and then we can go," she said as she strode towards her bedroom. He came in and closed the door behind him.

"I checked the weather channel this morning… Zero chance of rain, a hundred percent chance of a perfect romantic getaway!" he chimed happily.

"Oh, really?" She appeared carrying a travel bag in one hand. "Well, I'll tell you if it was perfect when we get back," she said with a smirk on her face.

He took the bag from her, placed it on the floor, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her body to his.

"You just wait, Detective," he purred in her ear and then caught her earlobe between his teeth. A shiver ran down her spine. "Are you ready?" he murmured against the skin of her jaw. She just nodded. He let her go, threw both her bag and his over one shoulder and crossed back to the front door. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw she was still standing in the living room. "You coming?" he chuckled.

Kate blinked. "Yeah..." She walked over to him, grabbed her keys, and just then her cell phone went off. Castle's face grew somber; she winced. Avoiding his gaze, Beckett reached for her cell inside her pocket and checked the caller ID. She looked back up at him with apologetic eyes and she knew _he knew._

Before she could say anything, Castle shook his head and spoke, "Don't."

"It's the station," she said, guilt tinging her tone. "I have to."

"Kate, don't you d—" he started but she'd already brought the phone up to her ear.

"Beckett," she answered. He dropped the bags —which hit the floor with a loud thud—, threw his arms up in the air and growled. They had planned this trip weeks ago. They were going camping for two days. It had already been postponed twice, and she'd promised it wouldn't happen a third time.

"Mmm…, mmm… Yeah, okay…. Be right there." Kate slowly hung up and stepped into the living room. Castle stood in the middle of the open space with his back to her. She walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. He shook it off. "Castle… I'm sorry." He took another step away from her. "It's my job!" It came out louder than she'd wanted. He started pacing in front of the couch, keeping his eyes on the rug. "We can go after—"

"No! Don't," he snapped, turning to face her. "If you don't wanna go just say so," he yelled.

"What? I course I want to go!" she screeched. "But I have other responsibilities!"

"Let someone else do it! You're not the only detective in the city!" he argued, his face contorted with anger.

"If there was anyone else available, they wouldn't have to call me!" she retorted.

"Forget it," he muttered.

Kate started toward her bedroom to change from her tracksuit into work clothes, but stopped at the threshold to look over her shoulder. "Are you going to come with me?" she asked.

"No," he answered in a harsh tone.

She murmured, "Fine." Crossing the short hall, she walked into her bedroom and took off her sweat shirt, tossing it onto the bed. When she reached the closet, she heard the front door slam shut. Kate peeked into the living room; his bag was gone, and so was he.

Hurt and angry, she slumped into an armchair, put her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands.

* * *

She was in a foul mood all day and she took it out on the boys. Even so, they were gallant enough —and smart enough— not to pry. Beckett had tried to call Castle all day long, but he hadn't answered. And she had left him a half dozen voicemails, apologizing. He ignored them. At eight in the evening, she sent the boys home and headed to her apartment herself.

She slid the key into the hole, unlocked the door and got in. But when she took one step into the living room, she stopped short. The room was lit with a hundred candles. All the furniture had been pushed aside and in the middle of the sitting area was a tent.

"I wanted to set it upstairs on the rooftop, in the garden, but figured the noise wouldn't let us sleep." Castle was standing to her left, half concealed in the shadows, leaning against her dining table.

Kate slowly walked over to him and set her purse behind him on the table. "I'm sorry," she said, touching his cheek.

He took her hand, brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. "_I am sorry. I shouldn't have been so—"_

"Shhh..." She put a finger to his mouth and locked her gaze with his for a brief moment before taking a step closer to him, coming to stand right between his legs. Leaning in, she pressed her palms on his chest and brushed her lips over his. He slowly wound his arms around her, his hands pressing against the small of her back.

"It is certainly zero chance of rain in here," Kate whispered. Then, looking deep into his eyes, she pushed back a lock of hair from his forehead and added, "Is it still a hundred percent chance of a perfect romantic—"

She was silenced by the crush of his mouth onto hers.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**


	7. (IM)PATIENT

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

7. (IM)PATIENT

* * *

The front door opened and he rolled the wheel chair inside the loft and steered her towards the bedroom.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice loud and not quite hiding her bad mood.

"To the bedroom," he answered, stopping and taking one step to the side to look down at her.

"_Why_?" she sounded almost bewildered.

He arched his brows. "You want me to just leave you in the middle of the entrance hall?" he said sarcastically and she frowned at him. "Where do you want me to bring you?"

"Home!" she growled. He heaved a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes.

"You can't stay alone, Kate. Look at you!" he gestured. The crease between her brows deepened and she pursed her lips tight, boring him with a deadly glare. "It's either here or the hospital."

"It's _your_ fault!" she exclaimed beyond irritated.

"It was an ac-ci-dent," he punctuated every syllable. "I have apologized a thousand times already! It could have happened to anyone." She was really starting to get on his nerves and he felt himself on the edge of losing control of his temper. He moved to stand in front of her and then mumbled to himself. "If it's anyone's fault it's yours," the words slipped from his lips.

"_What_? How is it _my_ fault!" she screeched. "You're the one who knocked me down!"

"_You_ told me to wear jeans," he retorted.

"Because you can't ride a motorcycle in dress pants!"

"The jeans wouldn't let me lift my leg high enough… My foot got hooked around the seat and I tripped," he grunted.

She groaned. "I am _not_ having this argument again for the_ fourth time_!" she said between clenched teeth.

"Fine," he spat out.

"Fine!" She turned her face, looking away from him.

It had all started that same morning. He'd been begging her for a week to teach him to ride a motorbike. Since it was a beautiful sunny day of mid-September and she had a day off, they had taken her '94 Harley Softail to Hudson River Park.

First she had explained the basic theory. Where the brake was, the gas, how to work the clutch… When they had gone over everything, _twice_, she stood on one side of the bike holding it upright by the handlebars so he could sling his leg over and sit on it. They _didn't_ get to that part. As he swung his leg, his jeans tightened at the groin, yanking his leg back down a couple of inches, and his foot hit the backseat of the bike. The force of the momentum made him lose his balance and he fell on the bike, and with it, knocked her down and they all hit the floor, Castle and her Harley landing painfully on top of her. She banged her head hard against the concrete, one of the handles dug into her stomach, and her right leg got twisted between the engine, the frame of the bike and the back wheel; the exhaust pipe smashing into her shin just under her knee. All air was pushed out of her lungs, and the weight of the bike plus Castle's crushed her against the ground. She couldn't breathe and her vision went black for a few seconds. When she could see again, stars danced around the corners of her eyes. She heard people's feet getting close to aid them. Castle kept calling her name, panic tinging his voice. Someone pulled the bike off her and she coughed and sucked in a deep breath. _That was a bad idea._ As her lungs expanded with the inhale of air, she felt an excruciating stabbing pain in her ribs. He crouched beside her head and gently put his hands on her face, telling her not to move.

The next few hours where all about sirens, ambulance, doctors in white coats, X-rays, casting and bandages… _The result?_ A concussion, a sprained tibia, a twisted wrist, a dozen scratches and a million bruises all over her body, the biggest one covering most of her left rib cage. _And_ a long tear in her favorite leather jacket.

"Okay… You want me to set you on the couch?" he asked as gently as he could manage. She just shrugged in response, still gazing away.

Laying her on the big L-shaped couch, he placed a cushion under her injured leg, and another two at her back. "Are you comfortable?"

"I'm OK," she said dryly. He gave her a pad and a pen.

"Here, write down what you need from your apartment so I don't forget anything."

She took the notepad from him and started scribbling everything she wanted. She already had a tooth brush here, so all she needed were some clothes, her pajamas, the book she was reading…

"You are so not sleeping in the same bed with me tonight," she mumbled under her breath.

"You're kicking me out of my _own_ bed? Where do you want me to sleep?"

"You have a guest room," she stared coldly at him.

"You've got to be kidding-"

The front door swung open and Alexis walked in.

"Hi! I'm home," she called. Castle had asked his daughter if she could stay with Kate while he went to get her some clothes and pick up the medicines she'd been prescribed. He greeted her and kissed her forehead. When they moved over to the couch, Kate handed him the list.

"Hi detective, how are you feeling?

"Well, I'm loaded with painkillers so right now…. I'm just uncomfortable." She carefully lifted her top with her good hand, exposing her bruised ribs. "But this is gonna hurt for a while."

"Oh my god!" Alexis gasped. "That looks excruciatingly painful!"

He decided to go before he said something he'd regret later. "I'll be back in an hour," he muttered.

* * *

He slid the key in the door and let himself in. Alexis sat on the couch with her laptop, her fingers swiftly typing on the keyboard.

"Honey, where's Kate?" he asked, walking toward her. He dropped the two bags with clothes on the floor next to the couch and sat down.

"She's asleep. She had a headache so I helped her in bed," Alexis murmured, looking up from the screen. His gaze travelled to the bedroom's closed door and a wave of worry and guilt washed over him.

"How long has she been sleeping?" he asked.

"Uh… about fifteen minutes," she answered, closing the laptop.

"Did she eat anything?"

"I made her a sandwich and she had some juice." She rested her hand over his, and their eyes met. "Dad, if you don't need anything else, I'm gonna go," she said, sounding a bit apologetic. "I have to-"

"Of course, pumpkin," he kissed her cheek. "Thank you for staying."

Alexis gathered her things, hugged her father and left. He walked into the kitchen, filled a glass of water and got the paper bag from the pharmacy. Quietly opening the door, he stepped into the dark bedroom and approached the bed.

She lay on her back over the covers, her head turned to one side resting on a pillow. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her waist and placed the water on the nightstand. The soft light coming in from the slightly open door glistened on her sweaty forehead, beads of perspiration dampening her hair. He lightly brushed it aside with his fingertips.

"Kate," his voice was barely a whisper and he gently pressed his hand on her cheek. Her skin felt warm under his touch. "Kate, I've got your painkillers." She squinted and grimaced. With her eyes shut, he helped her sit up, enough for her to down two pills. A moan escaped her lips as he laid her back down on the mattress, her breathing shallow.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered and his voice broke. He covered her with a thin blanket and silently left the room to let her rest.

* * *

It was pitch-black when she opened her eyes. The dull glow of the numbers on the alarm clock flashed 4:56 am. As her vision adjusted to the darkness, she heard a deep breathing near her, to her right, and she made out a big shadow a few feet from the bed. She found the lamp's switch and flipped it on. Castle had move an armchair close to the bed and had fallen asleep in it. His head was tilted back, his Adam's apple standing out against the stretched skin of his neck, and resting over the back of the easychair. With every breath he took, a soft snore escaped his slightly parted lips. His arms hung limply over the armrests and his cell phone lay on the floor, a few inches from his hand; it probably had slipped from his fingertips when he had fallen asleep.

Then she remembered; he had been waking her every two hours, following the doctor's orders to make sure she didn't have any brain injuries. She watched his somber face, dark rims under his eyes and a frown between his brows. After the way she had treated him the day before, he still stayed by her side and took care of her. She'd been angry and frustrated, and she now realized she might have been a bit too harsh on him. After all, it had been an accident, a clumsy and stupid accident.

Her heart leaped at the beeping of his phone. He startled at the sound too, his eyes flying open. When he saw her awake, he jumped out of the armchair.

"Are you alright?" he asked alarmed, his voice hoarse.

"I'm okay," she whispered. He sighed, closing his eyes, and his head fell on her shoulder. "Castle?" He tilted his head up and she locked her gaze with his.

"You need anything?" he murmured, studying her face.

"I'm sorry for being so hard on you," she placed her right hand on his cheek; he leaned into the warmth of her touch and then turned his head and kissed her palm.

"I'm sor-" he started to murmur against the inside of her hand.

"Shhh," she shook her head and brought his face down to hers. Their lips met in a soft sweet kiss, but it slowly got heated, her tongue gliding over his bottom lip and demanding entrance. A minute later they parted, gasping for air. "You look tired," she breathed out. "Get into bed."

He walked to the other side and got under the sheets, fighting the urge to snuggle against her for fear of hurting her. She switched off the light and she heard him yawn.

"You still want me to teach you how to ride my bike?" she murmured, a hint of a smile in her tone.

"Only if I can borrow one of your stretchy jeans," he joked.

"Sure," she chuckled quietly.

* * *

_4 weeks later…_

She was wearing her favorite leather jacket, which was as good as new thanks to him. It meant a lot to her, it was the black jacket she wore that rainy night she had come to his loft and asked for forgiveness. Their first night together.

"Okay, now… _slowly_ swing your leg over-"

"I know, I know…" he told her. Instead of holding the bike from one side, she'd positioned herself in front of it, the front wheel between her legs. He took in a deep breath, and squeezing his eyes shut, he lifted his left leg, slung it over the motorbike and… sat on it.

He slowly opened his eyes and they smiled at each other. She stepped aside and he started the engine.

"Alright good, now gently release the clutch and…" The bike moved forward at a slow pace.

"Whoa," he chuckled.

"Yeah!" she cheered excited as he rode off.

Smiling, he twisted his head to look at her. "I'm doing it Beckett!" She smiled back, but then the corner of her lips fell.

"Castle, watch out!" she yelled. He turned his face right before he crashed into a lamp post. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed as she ran to him.

The bike had fallen on its side by the light pole and Castle was a few feet away on a patch of grass, lying on his back. She dropped to her knees by his side.

"Castle?" she asked shaky and hesitant. His eyes were closed. She lightly touched his shoulder and then held his face in her hands. "Are you alright?"

"Ow!" he said in a strangled voice, blinking his eyes open and focusing them on her worried ones. And then she read on his face that he was alright and she sighed in relief. "I think… I just broke my butt," he winced and turned slightly on his side to rub a hand over his rear. Smiling, she slowly helped him sit upright.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, landed soft on the grass," he murmured looking up at the bike and then added, "But I think… I'm gonna stick to cars."

She leaned over him and loudly kissed his cheek. "Let's do that," she laughed.

* * *

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	8. (OVER)PROTECTIVE

******Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

8. (OVER)PROTECTIVE

* * *

She hadn't seen it coming. She was punched on the face and the next thing she knows she's falling backwards, her Glock slipping from her fingers and landing somewhere in the dark behind a pile of pallets. Lying on her back, she was pinned to the floor by the man's heavy frame and his strong hands wrapped tight around her neck in a vise choke. As much as she tried no sound left her throat, she couldn't call for help and she couldn't get the guy off of her. She clawed at his face and dug her nails into the man's skin but his grip didn't waver. She heard Ryan and Esposito's muffled voices coming from the two-way on her hip, asking for her to answer their call. Her vision started to blur around the edges, a ringing sound filled her ears. She kept squirming and kicking with her legs, her heels hitting hard against the ground but he was just too strong for her. Her strength started to lose steadiness. There was no one else near them; she'd ordered Castle to stay in the car and she and the others had split and scattered around the abandoned warehouse in pursuit of the fugitive suspect. It would probably be too late before anyone would find her in the dark and musty basement.

"Beckett! KATE!"

A shadow, fast as lightening, flew over them, pulling her attacker off her and knocking him to the ground a few feet away. She turned on her side, coughing hard, and sucked in a huge gulp of air, finally able to fill her lungs. She heard struggling and the sound of a fist hitting flesh repeatedly. Other heavy footsteps approached fast and someone jumped over her. When her breathing started to even out she focused her eyes on her savior. She saw Castle punch the guy in the face again. Esposito quickly pushed Castle aside and he roughly turned the suspect face down, his knee pressing into the guy's back, and then he cuffed him. The man had his head turned to her, his face grounded against the filthy floor and when their gazes met he smiled at her. She diverted her eyes, rolling onto her back again.

"You alright Beckett?" Esposito said in a sharp tone. She gave him a short nod just as the man under him tried to move. "Hey! Stay still you, sonovabitch." Espo reached for his radio. "Found Beckett. We got the suspect. Need someone down at the basement."

With his face contorted in anger and his breathing heavy, Castle wiped his blood-stained hands on his pants, and then hurried to her side and knelt next to her head. With his back to her, he blocked her from the suspect's view and kept his eyes on him.

Esposito rose and pulled the man up with him. He started dragging him towards the exit and she sat upright, leaning against a wall. When Esposito disappeared into the stairwell Castle turned to her. He knelt in front of her between her legs.

"Are you alright?" he asked panting, with his eyes wide open and full of worry as he cradled her face gently between his hands.

"Yeah…" she murmured and immediately winced at the pain she felt in her throat when she spoke. He tugged at the cuff of his sleeve and carefully wiped away the blood at the corner of her mouth. She was still breathing shallowly so he helped her out of her Kevlar vest. "I thought I'd told you-" she took in a deep breath and then continued, "to stay in the car."

"Good thing I never listen," he said in a low, serious tone. "What happened?"

"He came from behind," she whispered.

He put a hand on her cheek and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes and sighed. She would normally not allow him to get so close and affectionate with her while at work but since there was no one else around and she still felt a bit shaky, she appreciated the warm moment of intimacy. As she breathed deeply through her nose, she brought her hand to the side of his neck, her thumb brushing over the hint of stubble on his jaw, and he forcefully pressed his lips to her temple before pulling away.

"Come on," he whispered. "Can you walk?" he asked as he took her hands and helped her stand up.

* * *

An hour later, face washed, wearing a clean shirt and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she waited outside Interrogation 2. The finger-shaped bruises on her neck were starting to stand out against her fair skin. There was nothing she could do about those. Castle stood next to her trying to convince her not to get into the room with the suspect.

"Castle, it's best if you stay in Observation. I've got this," she reassured him in a low tone.

"If you're going in, so am I," he said determined. She saw the conviction and obstinacy in his eyes.

"Alright, but you stay quiet, in the background. Ignore whatever he may say." He nodded in agreement and she held his gaze for a couple more seconds before getting in.

He did what he was told and didn't open his mouth all throughout the interview. But much to their disappointment neither did the suspect except for uttering demeaning, rude and obscene comments. Castle stiffened next to her when the suspect, who locked eyes with Castle for a few seconds, insinuated a clear threat to Beckett's life. She briefly took hold of his wrist, giving it a little squeeze under the table before turning back to the suspect. Beckett remained unruffled and kept pressing the guy with questions and accusations until a lawyer showed up and ended their 'meeting'.

Beckett and Castle exited the Interrogation Room soon followed by an officer escorting the suspect to lockup. Just as the officer and suspect walked past Beckett, Castle saw him slow his pace, his eyes roaming disgustingly over her body and heard him murmur to her.

"If only your boyfriend had gotten there a couple of minutes later…"

That was the final straw. He didn't think; he just acted out. He grabbed the suspect by the lapels of his jacket and smashed him against the bullpen's divider.

"Castle!" Beckett shouted. People, including her, tried to pull them apart immediately. Castle brought his face very close to the man's.

"If you even dare look in her direction again," he growled very low, "I will kill you myself."

"Castle, STOP!" she exclaimed again tugging strongly at his arm.

He brutally let go of the man and stepped back, being restrained and pulled by Kate's firm grip. The suspect kept an evil grimace of a grin on his face as two officers took him away.

* * *

She pushed him inside the room and he kicked the leg of the table and kept his back to her.

"What the hell, Castle!" she yelled when she closed the door and locked it.

He took in a couple of shallow breaths. "I'm sorry," he mumbled low without really meeting her gaze.

"_You're sorry_? Dammit Castle, this could cost us the case!" She stepped closer to him. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I _wasn't_ thinking," he murmured angry. "I just-" He kicked the table again.

"Hey! …Castle!" She hadn't really seen him like this before; he was enraged. She slowly put a hand on his arm and turned his face to her with the other.

"I just can't ignore when you are being threatened in front of my face by a murderer. Am I supposed to stay back and let him-"

"He was just playing us, _you_," she said softly, looking him in the eye.

"It's one thing to overlook verbal threats, but it's something different when the abuse is physical," he said, touching the hand-shaped bruises on her neck. "I just can't," his voice broke and he closed his eyes.

She gently wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He clung to her, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck, his breathing shaky against her skin.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

She sighed and pressed a kiss to the hollow behind his ear. "I know."

* * *

**Hope, as always, that you liked it :) See you soon!**


	9. (UN)FAITHFUL

**A/N: ATTENTION! MILD SPOILER FOR EPISODE 2, SEASON 5. Enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

9. (UN)FAITHFUL

* * *

It had been going on for the past three days, ever since they had walked into the crime scene and that entertainment reporter had laid eyes on him; and it was only getting worse. But since they were keeping their relationship a secret, there was very little, more accurately, nothing she could do about it publically, nothing at all she could do or say without tipping her hand and reveal that she, Detective Beckett, inspiration of Nikki Heat and muse of the bestseller author Richard Castle, was sleeping with his partner.

Kate trusted him, but it was this woman that… _Ugh!_ …Those fake smiles and silly giggles got under Beckett's skin, arousing an itching feeling, like an irritation of an allergic reaction. And every time that reporter insinuated herself into him, every time she touched his arm or leaned in to murmur something in his ear, all Beckett wanted to do was grab him and make out in front of that woman and everyone else, to let the world know that he was already taken. There were moments when Kate really couldn't care less about everyone finding out about their affair. And that was so not like her. She felt so conflicted. What made it even worse was that she could see him struggle and endure this torture while trying to be nice and inconspicuous.

They had talked about it just the night before, when she'd finally snapped and had started grumbling and complaining about the case, about the annoying reporter and about the whole world.

"Are you _jealous_?" he'd mocked her while popping the last of his spring roll into his mouth.

"Oh please," she had scoffed dismissively but blushed at the same time.

"_You are!_ Ha, ha, ha," he'd chuckled. "Well that is…," he'd sighed and smiled smugly, "I'm… uh… flattered."

She'd frowned at his amusement by her foul mood and humiliation, and then she'd looked away.

"Hey, look at me," he'd said, angling his body to face her, placing a finger under her chin and turning her head towards him. He'd then cradled her face in his hands and their gazes had met. "You don't need to worry…, you're my _only_ one. There is no reason for you to be jealous." He'd paused for a moment and seeing as her face relaxed, he'd added with a cocky grin, "Though I think it's kinda cute and sexy… Hey, don't give me that look," he'd chuckled again when her brows furrowed, "I like it 'cause it means you care."

Then he'd kissed her and had spent half the night doing things to her that made her forget about everything for a while.

But that had been last night. Now…, now she felt on the verge of losing all control again. _Was she supposed to stand by and watch as that woman groped all over him in front of the cameras?_ She was dying to tell that bitch to knock it off and to take her filthy hands off her man. She just wanted to rip her head off. She felt so frustrated and annoyed and pissed off and… she just wanted to scream.

Her hand twitched an inch towards her desk drawer, aching to reach for her Glock and… _What?! Oh my god!_ She really needed to get out of there before she did something really, _really stupid_. She spun around and almost ran into Ryan.

"Wow! Hey… Beckett, you alright?" he asked, holding her by the arms, helping her regain her balance. She looked at him, brows furrowed. "You look-"

She didn't hear him out; she stormed past him and raced down the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

* * *

He finally found her at the shooting range. He stopped by the entrance and peered through the door's window. He saw her pull out an empty magazine from the gun, replace it with a new one, and she aimed at her target. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to confront her in such an isolated place and where she had a gun within reach, but he needed to apologize. He took a deep breath, covered his ears and walked in as she started emptying, what seemed to be, the third reload; two other empty magazines lay in her booth.

"Kate! Hey! HEY!" She turned her head and saw him standing by the exit door. "I've been looking for you everywhere," he said loudly.

"Well…," she took off the ear muffs and he lowered his hands. "I just needed to blow off some steam," she murmured in a sharp tone.

He cautiously approached her booth, eying the gun in her hand. "Could you… put the gun down?"

"Why?" she asked wary; not putting the gun aside.

He held up his hands, palms out to her in a gesture of innocence, and said in a low voice. "Listen, I'm sorry… I know what it may have looked like, but I swear I didn't want to, it was her…_ she_ kissed _me_."

* * *

She took off the safety glasses, tossing them onto the booth's counter, and narrowed her eyes.

"_What?!"_ Her voice echoed loudly in the small space, reverberating off the bare concrete walls.

"I…, uh, you didn't know? I thought… you had seen it …and that was why you had ran off, and-" He closed his mouth when her hand twitched, gripping the gun more firmly, her index finger sliding over the trigger.

"_You kissed her?!"_ she growled through clenched teeth.

"No, no, no, noooo!" With his hands still raised, he took a step back but she followed, taking two steps towards him. "_She_ kissed me! It was her, all her, and she is _strong!_ I tried to, I-" he stuttered and his eyes flickered to the weapon in her hand again. "Could you just, _please_, put the gun down?"

She kept walking towards him and he kept backing away until he hit the wall. She slowly put the gun down on the booth next to her and glared at him. He looked at her with terrified eyes.

"Kate, please, you have to believe me… Why else would I tell you if-? …I-I even w-" he blurted out nervously but she hushed him, putting a hand over his mouth.

"Just… shut up for a moment, will you?" she grumbled irked. Her enraged heavy breathing was the only sound in the room as she studied his face with a deep frown between her brows.

"I just want you," he mumbled softly against the inside of her palm.

Those four words had a calming effect on her, all fury within her melted and vanished. She dropped her hand and slowly leaned into him and their lips met. When she deepened the kiss, she suddenly pulled away, her brows furrowed and an unpleasant taste on her tongue.

"_What-?"_

"I washed my mouth with soap," he answered very quickly.

"You did _what_?!"

"It was disgusting, but I didn't want to... Her taste was in my mouth!" he grimaced.

She kept frowning in disbelief, but then a sweet loving smile spread slowly over her lips, and even though it was _disgusting,_ she couldn't help but kiss him again.

"You're _mine_," she murmured possessively when he left her mouth to nibble at her neck.

"Yes I am… so yours," he panted and they locked mouths again.

* * *

**Thanks ;)**


	10. (OMNI)PRESENT

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

10. (OMNI)PRESENT

* * *

Martha reached for the almost empty bottle and poured Kate the last of the wine into the glass she was holding.

"Oh, Martha! No, no more, please." Kate reached to put a hand over the glass, but the woman had already filled it. "It's…," she checked her father's watch. "Oh, wow. It's really late! I should get going."

Martha dismissed her comment with a wave of her hand. "Nonsense darling! You are staying the night."

"Oh, no I couldn't."

"Of course you can! Like you said, it's late, and it's freezing cold outside. No, no. You stay here."

"Besides," added Alexis, standing up and starting to clear up the dishes from dinner, "Dad would kill us if we'd let you drive in this icy storm."

Alexis had come to spend a few days with her grandmother, and keep her company while her father was away on a book tour, and Martha had invited Kate over to have dinner with them. Since it was Saturday, and she didn't want to spend the evening alone, she'd accepted her _mother-in-law's _invitation.

Kate opened her mouth to object, but Martha held out a hand to her. "We insist."

Beckett smiled defeated. "Guess I don't have a choice," she murmured.

The second –secret– reason she had agreed to have dinner at the loft was because they expected Castle to return that night, but much to her disappointment, a few hours earlier he had called to inform them that his flight had been delayed due to bad weather, and he would arrive the next morning.

Castle had been away for ten days, travelling all around the States to promote his latest book _Frozen Heat_. It had hit the shelves a couple of months back, but since it had become a #1 bestseller on its first day of release, the paperback had just been published, and the movie premiere was coming up in a few weeks, Castle had been asked for interviews on night talk shows, and for book signings all over the country.

But, even though he had been away for more than a week, in some ways it was like he hadn't left at all. For starters, he and Becket had talked on the phone every day. She would share the developments on the cases she was working on, and he would tell her about his schedule, and about how much he missed her, among other things. She would tuck herself in bed under the covers every night, and he would call her before she went to sleep so he could wish her good night. Sometimes she had had to wait 'till late because of the hour difference, but she didn't really care as long as she got to hear his voice. His closing line had been the same every night. "And another day is over," he would tell her before hanging up, delighting her with the countdown of days left for him to get back home, the days left before he could see her again, the days left before he could have her in his arms again.

The ritual would repeat itself at sunup, when he phoned her in the raising hours just to make sure his _sultry_ voice was the first thing she'd hear every morning.

Besides the long conversations over the phone, she would also see all the shows in which he appeared. If it was aired during work hours, she would sneak into the break room and watch it; and when the case didn't allow it, she would record it and watch it at home at night.

Even now, during the girls' night dinner with his family, the main subject had been him.

Beckett sipped some of the wine, and Martha said, "So, how was your week?"

"My god! It's been so long," she exclaimed, sitting upright and resting her elbows on the dining table. Martha gave her an impish smile. "I'm sure Alexis told you about the three cases we have been working on all at once for the past five days." That multiple case had been closed that same day, and it had actually been Castle's long distance intervention the one that had given her and her team the definitive lead that had helped them catch the killer. So, even 3000 miles away, Castle's assistance had been key to solving the murders.

"Oh, yes. She told me." Martha squeezed Alexis' hand before turning her gaze back to Kate. "But no work-talk at this hour! I meant, how was your week without…?" She let the rest unsaid as her eyes darted briefly over to Castle's office.

"Oh, well…"Kate didn't really know what to say. Although, for the past few weeks, her relationship with Castle was no longer a secret among his family, outside the walls of the loft, luckily, nobody had found out about their romance yet. For Kate, being able to open up and be honest about her feelings for Castle with third parties was still something relatively new, and so sometimes it felt a bit weird to be able to share this kind of personal moments with her boyfriend's mother and daughter.

"You missed him," Martha said matter-of-factly. Even though Beckett had known Martha's frivolous and charismatic personality for years, sometimes her bold comments still left Kate speechless. She was a little taken aback, especially with Alexis sitting across from her. But perceptive as ever, the redhead favored her with a sympathetic smile before her grandmother continued. "Oh, honey! It's written all over your face! And it's totally understandable." Martha started laughing, and then added, "Wouldn't _he_ love to see three beautiful women, the three most important girls in his life, talking about how much they miss him only after a week."

* * *

It was well past midnight when they finally broke the party and rose from their chairs. Alexis was already on her way to her bedroom when Kate hesitated. _Was she supposed to sleep in the guest room or-?_

Martha came from behind, placing both hands on Kate's shoulders, and nudged her towards Castle's bedroom, making the decision for her. "Good night, darling." She waved her arm theatrically as she climbed up the stairs.

"Good night, Martha."

* * *

Leaving the door slightly ajar, she stepped across the bedroom and headed for the bathroom. She snatched her purple toothbrush from the cup that also held his blue one. As she brushed, she wandered around his bedroom, and ended up in his office. She sat in his leather chair, and traced the fingers of her free hand over the desk's polished wood. She started wondering how many long hours, over the past four and a half years, he had spent in this chair, in this study, thinking, imagining, fantasizing, and writing about her. Just thinking of it made her stomach flutter, and her knees go weak. And in that line of thought, another question crossed her mind. How much of what he had written, had he imagined would actually really happen one day? She shook it off her mind. A long week of multiple cases, short hours of night rest, plus an evening with way too much wine, was starting to take its toll on her.

She walked back to the bathroom, rinsed her mouth, and wiped the makeup off her face. Back in the bedroom, she stripped to her underwear, placing her clothes neatly over the back of an easy chair, and rummaged through his dresser drawers, looking for something comfortable to sleep in. Not finding her spare set of PJ's, she pulled out an oversized long sleeved sweatshirt of his. She padded to the bed, dropping the sweatshirt over a pillow, and started pulling up the comforter and the sheets pooled in an untidy ball on the floor at the foot of the bed. Most likely, in his hurry to leave last week, he hadn't bothered to make the bed. And apparently, Martha hadn't either. As Kate stretched the comforter over the sheets, her eyes fell upon a navy blue T-shirt hidden between the folds of the fabric. She grabbed it, and brought it up to her face, inhaling Castle's scent on it. Comforted by the knowledge that no one would know, she forgot about the long sleeved sweatshirt, favoring sleeping in her boyfriend's used tee simply because it smelled of him.

She climbed onto the bed, and crawled under the covers. She then reached for the lamp switch, flicking the lights off, and rolled to the center of the mattress. She got comfortable, surrounded by his scent coming off the bed linen and the pillowcase under her head, and closed her eyes, relishing that when she woke up the next morning, he would be back home.

* * *

Dawn was still a few hours away when he let himself into the loft. He set his rolling suitcase aside next to the front door closet, shrugged off his coat and jacket, and slipped out of his shoes, finally able to wiggle and stretch his toes after the long flight.

On his way to his bedroom, he flicked on the small wall lamp in the anteroom, and slowly pushed the door open. The soft light cast over the dark hardwood floor, a thin line crawling up his bed and highlighting a subtle figure under his comforter. He followed the flawless line with his eyes, starting at the foot of the bed, and flowing into a slender curve in the middle of the mattress. The headboard was hidden in the shadows, so he opened the door further, the light beam slowly widening, to reveal the identity of the stranger who had invaded his bed. When his gaze fell upon the mass of soft brown curls over a pillow, he smiled and felt his heart swell at the extraordinary picture. He stepped closer to the bed, taking her in in this delightful state. She lay curled up on _his_ side of the bed, where she had drifted to unconsciously in her sleep. He also noted that she was loosely hugging _his_pillow to her chest, and she was wearing _his_ T-shirt.

He sat down on the edge of the mattress, and switched on the bedside lamp. With his body turned to her, he reached forward, and gently swiped his hand over her forehead, brushing aside the thick curls that had fallen over her eyes, hiding half her face.

At his delicate touch, her nose wrinkled, and she drew in a deep breath. She then squinted her eyes, and blinked against the light before her pupils adjusted to the dimly lit room, and found him smiling down at her.

"H-," her voice came out hoarse and dry, and she cleared her throat. "Hey," she whispered.

"Hey," he chuckled softly. He caressed her cheek, and placed his hand on the pillow beside her head. "Didn't expect to find you here."

"What time-is it?" she yawned, lifting her arms in front of her, stretching her muscles, while her fingers found their way around his neck.

"Four in the morning… It's still early."

"How did you get here?" She scraped her nails through the short hairs at his nape.

"Well, I flew," he chuckled once. "We were able to take off earlier than expected."

"You must be tired," she murmured, sounding more alert, her eyes completely open and awake now.

"A little…, though I feel like I've lost sense of time. Jet lag gets the blame." He leaned in, and softly brushed his lips over hers. When he pulled back, he grinned and said, "You are wearing my favorite sleeping shirt."

She held his gaze for a long moment, and then, with an expression on her face that revealed nothing, she lifted her arms over her head, an invitation for him to take the T-shirt off her. One of his brows quirked up, and his lips twitched into a crooked smile, before his hands slowly pulled the shirt over her head.

"I missed you," he murmured low in her ear as she drew him on top of her. In response, she only hummed a deep moan of pleasure inside his mouth.

* * *

**Forgive any typo or mistake ;), and thank you!**


	11. (UN)COMMUNICATIVE

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

11. (UN)COMMUNICATIVE

* * *

Everybody knew it. He was a talker, he talked a lot. He just _couldn't_ shut his mouth. It seemed to be the only thing beyond his capabilities. But what else could be expected from him; after all it was his thing, words.

Sometimes Beckett thought Castle talked just for talking, just to do something, and she was also convinced he enjoyed doing it just to annoy her or get her attention. But after all this time, she had learned how to block what she didn't need or want to hear. Until now, she believed she had pretty much heard everything from him. They had been through all the kinds of multiple and incessant theories that Beckett believed him capable to conjure. There were his favorites, and most popular, about spies, conspiracies, and CIA; up to the pervert, paranormal, time travel, and even alien theories. But apparently his imagination didn't have boundaries, especially when the weird cases crossed their path, what much to her regret, happened way too often. It was then when his wild creativeness would kick in and the crazy theories started flowing from his mouth. When that happened, neither he, nor his mind, nor his tongue were controllable. Well…, there were a few ways with which she could get him to shut up, but those techniques were not decent to use in public, some of them weren't even decent to put into practice when they were alone.

So when, three days earlier, she walked into her last crime scene and spotted her victim lying on the ground in the middle of a public square, stripped to his white underwear, covered with hundreds of one dollar bills, and with an old-fashioned arrow sticking out of his heart, she knew it would be a Richard Castle's _fiction-meets-real life_ kind of case. And as she suspected, one glance at the body and his mind immediately started plotting scenarios and conspiring with a modern Robin Hood as the main character of his story. But it didn't stop there, of course not. His theory evolved and ended up being a Brothers Grimm's dark version of a bad-ass Cupid. So, as expected, after three long and _insufferable_ days of enduring his endless babbling, she'd finally snapped and seriously ordered him to go home so she could concentrate and solve the case without his constant distractions.

* * *

That evening, on her way up to his loft, she tried his cell for the fifth time but after seven tones it went to voice mail. Now she felt bad; she might have been a little too hard on him. When she stepped out of the elevator, a distant but loud rumbling filled the hallway and she noticed it was coming from inside the loft. She knocked on his front door and waited. Ten seconds later she rang the bell twice. Still, no one answered. With her fist, she pounded harder but to no avail. She was reaching for her phone when the door flew open and Martha almost ran into Kate on her way out of the apartment.

"Oh! Hello darling!" Martha exclaimed over the loud music playing behind her, inside the loft.

"Hi Martha."

"Well dear, I'd love to stay and talk but I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'm already late… He's inside," she said, winking at Beckett. The song that had been playing ended, but a second later another began. "Ugh, he's been like this for the last couple of hours!" The woman rolled her eyes while dramatically waving her arm, and then headed for the elevator.

"Uh… okay," Kate nodded, not really sure what Martha meant.

"See you later honey. Bye!" And she was gone.

Kate closed the front door behind her and walked straight to Castle's office, where the loud music was coming from, and heard his voice blended with the singer's voice. Slowly, she pushed the door open and stuck her head inside. She didn't expect, _at all_, to see what she was seeing; her jaw dropped. Castle, barefoot, wearing sweat pants, and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, was goofing in front of an old-fashioned silver standing microphone which, Beckett noticed, wasn't plugged in, and he was singing at the top of his lungs as if he were giving a rock concert. The band itself was performing on his large flat screen and Castle not only sang along with them, but he also mimicked all of their dance moves. Still at the doorway, Beckett leaned against the side of the big bookcase that separated the study from the living area, and she simply watched and enjoyed his performance, as splendid and entertaining as it was fun.

At the end of the second chorus, at the peak of the song, Castle jumped in the air, grabbed the mic at the base and dropped to the floor, sliding on his knees. And then he saw her, propped against the door frame, looking down at him with a smug expression on her face. For a couple of seconds he was completely stunned. Panting heavily, with sweat glistening on his forehead and hair line, and a small drop running down his temple, Castle blushed slightly.

"Hi," she said amused, biting down on her lip to keep from chuckling, although her whole body was shaking with silence laughter.

"…Oh… uh… How…? How long have you been there?" He stammered, frowning, and still sprawled on the floor.

"Enough," she replied with a smirk and folding her arms over her chest. "Having fun, are we?" Beckett arched her eyebrows. "Oh, please, don't stop because of me… I'd like to see the ending."

Castle gave her a stern and deep look. It was the kind of look Beckett knew all too well, the look that told her he was up to something. The bridge of the song came to an end and the third chorus began.

"_Yeaaaah!"_ Castle pushed himself up off the floor, jumping to his feet, and started singing again, this time acting for her. "_Oh my, feels just like I don't try, looks so good I might die…" _He walked toward her with slow but determined steps, fixing a seductive look straight into her eyes, clutching the mic's foot like a guitar and the microphone pressed to his mouth. When he stood in front of her, he pulled the microphone away from his face and whispered, singing softly over her lips. "…_Everybody loves me."_

She went for a kiss but he pulled back and let go of the mic, letting it fall to the floor with a loud clatter, and kept singing, obviously still very deep into his rock star performance.

"_Head down, swaying to my own sound, flashes in my face now…"_ He took her hand and pulled her to him with a rough jerk, their bodies colliding and stealing the air from her lungs. Pressed to one another, Castle started moving his hips against hers, making her sway to the beat of the music… And only when the song came to an end, did he allow her to devour his lips.

* * *

It was still early when Beckett forced herself to leave the warmth of his bed and him still asleep. She gently kissed him goodbye and left a note telling him to call her when he woke up.

At mid-morning, just as she exited Interrogation 1, Kate finally got a text from Castle. He said he'd be there in a short while. Having just caught the bad guy, she decided not to postpone it and started right away with the tedious paperwork to close the case. Twenty minutes later he walked into the bullpen, quietly sat on his chair beside her desk, and crossed his legs, folding his jacket neatly on his lap. When she diverted her gaze from the computer's screen to look at him, he gave her a small smile, but it didn't touch his eyes.

"Hey…" she said; he answered with a low hum. Beckett waited a moment but he turned his head to look at the desk almost nervously. "You're not gonna ask what happened with the case?" Castle opened his mouth but then he hesitated and remained silent. "Oh, come on! I thought we'd made up last night, and that you'd forgiven me."

Castle held her gaze for a long minute and then sighed. He motioned with his hand for her to come closer. She looked around before leaning in.

"I'm not mad," he whispered very low.

"Then what?"

His eyes scanned the table top and he grabbed a notepad and a pen. He quickly jotted something and turned the pad so she could read. _I lost my voice_. Kate's head snapped up to his face and she stared at him with wide eyes. He looked back at her with a sad expression. An amused grin spread on her lips and she started laughing at loud.

"God! Why didn't this happen three days ago?" she exclaimed sarcastically, still laughing. He frowned at her and pursed his lips, annoyed. "Don't look at me like that, Castle. It's your own fault. That's what you get for fooling around in front of a microphone for two hours." Kate reached out, pinched his cheek, and said with a mocking smile. "Look at the bright side… you are more handsome when you are quiet."

She informed him the case had just been closed and there was no reason for him to stay at the 12th; for the next few hours she'd be busy filling out fives and documenting the evidence for the DA. But Castle refused to leave saying he had nothing better to do. She did not object; after all, what harm could he do when he couldn't speak? But Beckett could not have been more wrong…

* * *

"Oh. My. God," she hissed through clenched teeth, closing her eyes and pinching the brigde of her nose. "What have I done to deserve this?!" He looked at her with innocent eyes, raising his hands, palms out. "Even voiceless you annoy me!"

Yes, he had been silent for the last half hour, but it didn't mean _at all_ that he hadn't been pestering her. Just like his vocabulary, the resources of this man to get her all riled up had no limits. He had proven that he didn't need the use of words to annoy her. He just needed, for example, an empty soda can. After making her a coffee, Castle had started blowing into the hole of the can trying to interpret Beethoven's fifth symphony. He had gotten to the tenth chord when Beckett snatched the can out of his hands. So, his next move was to whistle _Triggerfinger'_s version of '_I Follow Rivers'_, and when she hit him with a deathly glare, he managed to stay completely still for exactly three minutes before starting to drum his fingers on the desk top.

"I can't take it anymore!" She rose from the chair and gestured with her left arm. "If you want to do something useful and help, there are six boxes of documents and records in the conference room that need to be sorted, catalogued and filed. So, please, I'm asking you to do me the great favor of moving your ass in there and let me work. I'm not asking you to leave, just…" she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence; all that left her mouth was a frustrated groan. He did not complain as he stood up and walked into the conference room. "Thank you," she sighed deeply and slumped back in her chair.

For the next fifteen minutes it seemed that she had finally put him in check, until Kate looked up and saw his head floating in front of one of the windows, peering out into the bullpen, watching her. When their gazes met he smiled and wiggled his brows, but then she squinted her eyes and it quickly wiped away that silly smile off his face. Beckett turned her head back to work but a minute later she felt an invisible pressure looming over her. She glanced sideways out of the corner of her eye and spotted Castle still watching her from the conference room. When she rose to her feet, he immediately turned around and made himself busy. Without a word, Kate shut all the blinds and closed the door on her way back out, leaving him completely isolated.

* * *

Half an hour later her phone beeped twice, signaling two incoming messages.

_-I'm very…- Castle_

_-…BORED- Castle_

Beckett looked up and caught a slight movement in one of the blinds; Castle had most definitely been spying on her again. Before she could set the cellphone back on her desk, it beeped again in her hand, this time with three beeps.

_-You get so cute when you get angry- Castle_

_-Even when you get angry with me- Castle_

_-And I'm hungry- Castle_

Kate stood up and burst the door open to the conference room. He startled and jumped in his chair, rolling a yard back and hitting the wall behind him. She closed the door and, with a stern look, she approached her partner until she was hovering over him, causing him to tilt his head all the way back so he could look at her in the face. Castle, who had his own phone in his hands, pressed the send button without taking his frightened eyes off her hard face. A second later her cellphone vibrated in her hand and she read the text.

_-I love you- Castle_

Ever so slowly, wearing her most serious and intimidating expression, Kate bent forward, placing her hands on the armrests of his chair, until their faces were only a couple of inches apart. Castle tried to lean back but he was trapped between her body and the back of his chair. Her green hazel eyes bored into his terrified blue ones. He swallowed hard. Beckett was about to speak when the door opened.

"Oops! _Whoa!_ …Am I interrupting something?" Esposito said with a smile.

"Yes!" she answered, turning her head to her detective, while Castle craned his neck, trying to peer around her arm, and shook his head fervently.

"O-kay," Espo replied smugly, a double meaning hidden in his tone.

"Espo," Castle tried to call him, desperate to be saved, but the only sound that left his throat was a hoarse rasp. The detective shut the door, leaving them alone again.

Beckett turned back to Castle; he closed his eyes tightly and braced himself for the worst.

"You are… _hungry_?" she murmured in a low, dry tone.

She leaned even closer to him, grabbed his chin and…

… brushed her lips softly over his.

Straightening up, Beckett chuckled under her breath at his astonished expression, held out a hand, and said with a smile, "Let's go get something to eat, Castle."

* * *

**Really hope you liked it :)**


	12. (IR)REPLACEABLE

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

12. (IR)REPLACEABLE

* * *

"I must say, Detective," Castle mumbled around the fork in his mouth, licking its tines clean and shiny before putting it down on his empty plate, "This was a really delicious tomato quiche."

"Well. Thank you, Mr. Castle," Beckett answered with a proud grin, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her laced hands.

Castle leaned back, stretching his arms high above his head and, being unable to help himself, he added cocky, "Almost as good as mine." Beckett's not so inconspicuous kick under the table to his shin quickly wiped away that subtle smirk off his face as he choked out a throaty "Ouch."

"Just for that, you're doing the dishes all by yourself."

"Fair enough," he accepted, rubbing the throbbing spot where he'd been kicked.

Kate stood up but instead of moving over to the couch like Castle thought she would, she disappeared down the hall to her bedroom. He suddenly felt a suspicion springing inside him. A moment later, Kate emerged back into the living room carrying a book in her hand, and, when Castle caught a glimpse of the cover, his suspicion was confirmed and his brows plummeted into a deep, dark frown. _Dead End_. Alex Conrad's third mystery novel.

A week ago, Castle's protégée had been bold enough to send Beckett a fresh copy —literally hot off the press— from his latest novel. And it turned out it wasn't the first time. Because the same day that Kate had gotten the book, Castle had discovered that Alex had also given her his second novel, _Seriously Dead_, the year before. The only —small— consolation had been that both packages had been sent to the precinct and not to Beckett's apartment. Even so, Castle was still a man and the fact that another guy was giving stuff to his girlfriend kind of bothered him.

"Seriously?" she had started when Castle had demanded to know why she hadn't told him before about this book thing with Conrad. Beckett had put her hands on either side of her hips and had hit him with an incredulous look. "Aside from the fact that… _I don't know_, it's been a year, that I didn't remember, and that we weren't together at the time?" she answered sarcastically. He was momentarily speechless and she flashed a smirk at him. "I thought so."

"…And, you plan on reading it?" he'd murmured pathetically under his breath.

Beckett released a sigh that dripped with discernible annoyance and said, "I can't believe this is making you jealous. It's just a book."

"I am not jealous!" he'd defended himself instantly.

"Yes, you are. You always switch into a possessive mode every time a man all but blinks in my direction."

"I do not—"

Beckett had put a finger to his mouth to silence him. "Yes, you do. But I don't mind." She shrugged and smiled shyly. "I kinda like it." When Castle relaxed, Kate looked at him earnestly again, holding up a warning finger to his face. "As long as it stays there and it doesn't get out of hand." He'd nodded once and her features eased again. Then she ran her fingers through his hair and added, "I've told you before. I'm a one-writer girl."

"…Yeah? And what writer would that be?"

"I think you already know the answer," she had whispered softly.

The fluttering of her eyelashes and the soft touch of her lips were so persuasive they'd ended the conversation right there. But that had been last week. And now, six days later, Castle still felt the green-eyed monster fighting to break the chains that held him prisoner.

With Conrad's book in hand, Beckett glided to the L-shaped sofa and settled onto the soft cushions, throwing her legs up onto the seat and leaning her back against the right side armrest. She bent her knees and wedged her socked feet between the couch's grey cushions, and, when she was comfortable, she opened the book to the dog-eared page and started reading. Castle stepped into the kitchen, put the pile of dirty plates and silverware in the sink, squirted a lot of dish soap on them, and started the hot water running.

As he took off his watch and placed it on the black kitchen island next to the hob, and while he rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to the elbows, he watched Beckett closely. Her brows were deeply knitted in concentration and she was nibbling on her thumbnail with visible anxiety. Castle clenched his jaw and turned just in time to turn off the water before the soapy bubbles spilled over the edge of the old white sink. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder —Kate remained in the same position, as a statue— before dipping his hands into the water and starting to wash the dishes.

The second time that Castle's gaze drifted toward Beckett was when he heard her whisper a grave "no". Kate's eyes were wide open, glued to the page. Her brows were arched with concern and her left hand was covering her open mouth. Seeing that it was nothing _important_, Castle turned back to his task, rinsing the plates and placing them to dry onto the dish towel spread on the counter.

For the next few minutes he was able to repress the male instincts that were pushing him into peer over his shoulder. But when Kate gasped in horror, his eyes flew instinctively to her for the third time. But it was, again, a false alarm. Kate was still completely immersed in the book's story.

When he was done, Castle wiped-dry his hands and then turned to face the living area, not really knowing what to do next. He felt like he was experiencing a déjà vu. And, actually, he was, because —oddly enough— this was exactly what had taken place the night before. They had this ritual of _celebrating_ after every case-closing. But the night before, Beckett had turned down his advances arguing she was tired. Yet, she wasn't that tired as to read _Dead End_ for over an hour, leaving him to just stare up at the beamed ceiling. It wasn't until the wee hours of the night when she finally switched off her beside lamp and went to sleep.

And the issue didn't end there. Similar situations had taken place all through the previous week, and the week before that. Castle had noticed that Beckett was reading a lot —too much— lately. He'd seen her spending long hours with Patterson, Cannell, Lehane, Connelly —basically with every writer that had sat at his poker table at one point or another. And, apparently, this was Conrad's week. Castle couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Kate with one of his own books, which were starting to accumulate a layer of dust on her shelves.

Castle endured a total of twelve long minutes seated on the short end of the couch, watching how Kate dived deeper and deeper into the story, how her eyes flew over the text, devouring every word, and how the pages were being flipped with exceptional speed. Meanwhile, Castle's mood decayed with every passing second, becoming so depressed that it wasn't long before he started to feel like he was part of the furniture. What was the point of being invited to spend the night if he was going to be completely ignored later?

Castle cleared his throat loudly but Beckett didn't seem to notice. He sighed and huffed repeatedly and dramatically. Beckett continued to be totally oblivious to his presence. He stood up looking for the TV remote and found it hidden between the pillows to which Kate was leaning up against. She wasn't the least disturbed when he shook her as he dug through the cushions at her back to find the device. Slumping back onto the sofa, Castle zapped through channels until he found an action movie and then punched the volume button until the loud sound waves made the walls tremble. And that's when her eyes —finally— rose from the book.

"Hey!" she yelled over a series of booming explosions coming from the TV. "CASTLE! Turn it down!"

"What?! I can't hear you!"

Kate jumped to her feet and snatched the remote from his fingers. She pointed it over her shoulder at the flat screen and pressed the mute button.

"What the hell are you doing, Castle?!

"Oh! So, now you remember my name, uh?"

"What?" she asked confused.

"If you're going to ignore me, I'd rather go home. My mother pays me more attention than you do."

"Ignore you? I was just reading while you did the dishes."

"For your information, _Kate_, I finished a while ago. And that," he said accusingly, pointing at the book on the couch, "was not reading. It was you, diving right into the story."

"Well, I'm sorry. It's just that I got so caught up in the story," she admitted. "It's the best I've read in a long time." Castle gasped and his face suddenly radiated offense and betrayal. "I— I mean… I… Alex has learned from the best, hasn't he?" she tried to amend.

Castle crossed his arms over his chest and turned his face away from her.

"Oh, come on, Castle," she said, sitting on her knees next to him on the couch. "It's just a book. It's not like I'm going out with Conrad."

"But you did take him into bed with you last night," he muttered.

"_Whoa!_" Now she was the offended one.

"What! It's the truth, isn't it?"

"Oh, my god!" she grunted, rolling her eyes. "This jealousy will drive me insane!"

"Well, I can't help it! It's who I am!"

"I just don't understand _why_ you get like this just because I'm reading someone else's book!"

"It's not because you're reading someone else's book! …At least not entirely," he added in a quiet tone.

"Then what. What do you want us to do?! Will I have to put up with this ridiculous and childish behavior of yours to the point where you can't take it anymore and you end up forbidding me to read any book but yours?!"

"Of course not! I would never dare to forbid you anything." Castle calmed down a bit and gazed at her with eyes that wanted to appear innocent. "You're the one with a gun." Kate gave him a look; he lowered his gaze and started drawing circles on the fabric of the sofa with one finger. "I just don't want you to like them as much as my books," he mumbled piteously.

Beckett sighed and scooted closer. "Alright. Look, Castle," she grabbed his chin, making him look up at her and, without releasing him, she said, "I want you to understand one thing. Just because I don't show as much… _surprise_ as you'd want me to when I'm reading one of the Nikki Heat books is due solely to the fact that they are inspired by cases and events that we've already lived, _together_," she emphasized the word by raising her eyebrows, "and, therefore, they are not always an absolute novelty. And, believe it or not, the novelty is eventually completely gone when someone reads _Heat Wave_ for the seventh time. But it doesn't mean I like them less. On the contrary; I love your books. I could most definitely quote them to you from beginning to end."

When Kate's big speech worked on him, Castle whispered, "…Keep talking."

She smiled and crawled onto his lap, settling on his thighs and facing him. His arms wound around her waist and laced at her back.

"What I love, what fascinates me," Beckett started with a low murmur, slowly combing his hair back with both her hands, "is the way your wonderful mind is capable of weaving each and every one of the adventures we live every day into one single canvas and turn them into a story inspired by me."

"…Oh yeah?"

Kate brought her face very close to his and said in a barely audible voice, "Yeah. And…, do you know where I like to read those stories the most?"

"…N—no?" he stuttered.

"In the bathtub," she whispered sensually, "Wrapped in the warmth of the water and the soft lavender bubbles, with a glass of wine, and… _naked._"

Castle's brain stopped working coherently when he began to imagine the picture Kate had just painted inside his head. The mental coma, however, didn't seem to affect the control of his actions as one of his hands slid under her blouse and started stroking the skin of her waist.

"So," Beckett continued in a soft and seductive tone, "my question is: When are you going to let me read the next Nikki Heat's manuscript? I'm eager to _soak myself_ into something new of Nikki and Rook. The last book ended with such a cliffhanger… I'm anxious to know how the story unfolds." Castle seemed mesmerized by her lips. Kate drew his attention back to her eyes, lifting his chin with her finger. "…Mmmh?"

"Um… I don't know. Between work and you, I have little time left to write. And I've had writer's block for the last couple of weeks. … Maybe it's because I'm not getting enough inspiration from my muse."

"Wow… It's so gallant of you to blame it all on me," she mentioned, faking flattery.

"It's what I feel…"

"Oh, well. Do you know what would be a good solution? Ask gently and politely."

There was a moment of silence where he just stared at her. Beckett arched her brows slightly, waiting for his response.

"…Kate?"

"Yes?"

"Would you help me get some of my inspiration back tonight?"

"Sure… What do you need?" Her hand reached up to his collar and she started to undo the buttons of his shirt —one at a time— with each question, her eyes deliberately following the movements of her fingers. "Crime-related inspiration? Investigation-related inspiration? Legal matters? Procedure?"

"Actually, I think it's the romantic inspiration that I'm missing…"

"Oh…." Beckett slid her hand under his open shirt without taking her eyes of Castle's. "So… romantic inspiration?"

"Uh-hu."

"Mmm… Okay. I think I can help you with that." She softly kissed the corner of his mouth and her lips curled up when he answered.

"I would like that…"

"Alright… Would you rather we started with the theory? Or… can we jump directly into practice?"

"I think the practice will be more than enough."

* * *

**Thank you so much ;)**


	13. (UN)ASHAMED

**Anotherhumanbeing, as promised, first in English!**

**A/N: I sincerely hope you have half as much fun reading this as I had writing it. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

13. (UN)ASHAMED

* * *

"Castle?" Beckett knocked with one knuckle on his bathroom door and waited for a long second but she didn't get any answer. "Come on, Castle! Open up! You've been in there for thirty five minutes, now. You've made your point. I promise I won't laugh." Oops, maybe she shouldn't use that word, at least for the time being. "Castle… It could have happened to anyone. It happens more often and to more people than you think."

"You are such a liar, "came his voice, all of a sudden, from the other side of the door. It was the first time he said something since he'd locked himself up. "It happens to kids, not to a grown man like me!"

Well, she thought, he wasn't exactly acting like a grown up right now, but at least he was talking to her again. They were slowly moving forward.

"Castle…." she continued, "Just come out, please?"

"I'll never come out again!"

"Oh, god," she growled low and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Now, you're just being ridiculous!"

And then there was silence again. Great.

The night had started like any other. After dinner, they had moved to the couch in Castle's office to watch a movie, a comedy. Barely twenty minutes into it and they were already laughing so hard they were almost splitting their sides. And then, half way through the movie, Kate ended up slipping off the leather couch and landed on the floor, cracking up. Between the funny scene playing on the TV and the sight of the Detective laughing her guts out on the floor, Castle could barely breathe between his loud guffaws. Until, all at once, he jumped to his feet —Beckett thought he was gonna help her up—, but instead, he grew dead quiet. His Adam's apple bobbed visibly in his throat as he swallowed hard. She thought he was trying to be funny so she kept laughing, but the expression on Castle's face turned into one of absolute consternation and embarrassment in an instant. His blue eyes —wide open with disbelieving surprise— slid downward to look at a wet spot that had appeared around the crotch of his pajama bottoms and then she realized what had happened. Oh, god. He'd peed himself. Castle dashed out of the study before Kate had had time to push herself off the floor, and he'd been locked in the master bedroom's bathroom since then. Kate had tried being sympathetic, sweet, reasonable, indifferent and nonchalant, trying to downplay the incident's seriousness as best she could. She even tried ignoring him for ten minutes, but despite all of her efforts, she hadn't been able to persuade him to come out of his hiding place.

"Okay, listen," Beckett spoke again, "I swear I won't tell anyone. We will never talk about it and I'll carry the secret to the grave." But still nothing. It was as if she was talking to herself. "Oh, come on! Castle, please…" she begged.

"I think it's best if you go home," he said, his voice coming all the way from across the large bathroom and accompanied by a thudding sound, as if he was perched on the far end of the countertop and hitting the cabinet's door under him repeatedly with his heel. "I'll see you in… maybe a week."

"I am not leaving," her reply dripped with annoyance. "It's late and I'm tired. I just wanna get into bed."

Castle didn't speak again. Kate leaned back against the wall in the short hallway and ran her fingers through her hair. She did have an ace up her sleeve. She didn't want to use it, but seeing nothing else was breaking into that thick, stubborn head of his, she didn't really see any other option to get him to come out.

"Okay, uhm…" she started slowly, "I'm going to tell you something but it has to stay between us, alright? 'Cause I will kill you if you tell anyone." Castle stopped kicking the cabinet's door, so she assumed she'd gotten back his attention and he was willing to listen. "It has happened to me once, too," she continued. "It was during my first year in college. We went away for a weekend, a bunch of us, to a cabin in the woods. The second night, we were drinking and fooling around, and someone made me laugh so hard that I… well, I _wet_ my pants."

Kate waited for a moment but Castle didn't say a single word. She sighed and went to the bedroom. She crossed over to the dresser and pulled a pair of clean pajama bottoms and boxer briefs —whichever he preferred to sleep in tonight— from a drawer and padded back to the bathroom door.

"Castle?" she called tentatively. "I got you some clean pajamas. I'm just gonna leave them out here, by the door. I'll be in bed. You come out whenever you're ready, alright?" Again, silence. "Okay," she murmured to herself, briefly touching the wood of the closed door with her fingertips before turning around and walking back to the bedroom.

Kate crawled under the sheets, switched the lights off and just waited patiently. For five long minutes she heard nothing but the distant sounds of the city. But then, finally, she caught the sound of the lock unlatching softly. A thin line of light —that seeped through the slightly open bathroom door— projected onto the floor, just around the corner, and then the door closed again, quietly. Another five minutes passed until he left his cave of shame.

Castle's tall silhouette outlined against the dark hallway and Beckett remained very still as her eyes followed his figure moving into the room and circling the bed, his footfalls falling silently on the rug. He got under the covers and huddled up in the far edge of his side, as far away from her as he could without actually sliding off the mattress. For the next minute, Kate could barely hear him breathe. She propped herself up on one elbow and slowly scooted over to him until she was close enough to feel the warmth coming off his back but not so close that their bodies were touching. When Castle didn't flinch away Kate risked moving a couple of inches closer, curling herself around him and looping an arm around his middle.

At first, he didn't move at all. But, a few minutes later, he ended up molding himself a tad closer to her. Kate smiled, brushed a kiss on the curve of his neck and pressed her ear to Castle's back, being lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart. He grabbed the arm she had draped over his waist and wedged it under his own, taking her hand and tucking it under his chin.

"…Kate?" his whisper cut through the silence. "Did that really happen to you? That weekend away with your friends?"

"Yes." No, actually. It had happened to one of the other girls but Castle didn't have to know that; her story seemed to have comforted him.

It was all quiet again and Kate closed her eyes, feeling sleepier by the minute. And then, a short, low, _whistling_ but very distinctive sound —a wind— echoed in the bedroom and, in the same instant, Castle stopped breathing and his body tensed, becoming completely rigid against hers. Oh, god. It couldn't be; Castle just farted. Kate pursed her lips very tightly, and it took everything that she had to try and hold back the giggles rising up her throat, but she just couldn't, it was too much. Her whole body was already shaking inside and too soon she was bursting into laughter.

"Oh, my gosh! Hahaha…" she sputtered between chortles, rolling onto her back across the mattress. "Castle, it's clearly not your day!"

Castle wrestled to move away from her, pushing her toward the center of the bed and squirming against the sheets. And then another dull thud was heard over Beckett's laughter. She reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp. The light blinded her for a second but then she looked around and saw that she was alone on the bed. When she peered down over the edge of the mattress she found Castle sprawled on the floor, the sheets bundled up around his legs. His face housed the darkest glare she'd ever seen on him. And, again, she couldn't help it.

"Hahahaha!" she laughed even harder, falling again face up on the bed, her arms and legs spread wide.

Castle, who was still down on the floor, sat upright and Kate turned her head toward him. He shot her a murderous look but the tears in her eyes blurred her vision.

"You're mean," he grumbled low with a clenched jaw. God, he was just _inciting_ her. Even though her cheeks and stomach muscles hurt, she couldn't stop laughing. He freed himself from the tangle of sheets wrapped around his legs and stood. "I'm only human!" he shouted, angry, and that only made her laugh even more. She threw her head back and her legs kicked the mattress under her. "And for your information, you fart too when you sleep!" he added. "But, unlike you, I'm a gentleman and don't mention it or make fun of you."

"Re—really?" she answered, stammering and out of breath. "I don't be—believe it."

Castle's determination wavered for a split second. "Well, you've only done it once but—"

"HAHAHA!" Beckett cut him off, tears gliding down her temples. She rolled to the other side, hugging her stomach and pulling her legs up to her chest. "My god! I can't take it anymore! I can't hold it any longer!" she breathed out, panting heavily and gasping for air. Now she was the one who really needed to pee. She jumped off the bed and rushed to the toilet, staggering and stumbling under her weak knees and bending forward over her belly, her laughter echoing behind her.

* * *

When she came back to the bedroom, she was alone and both the comforter and Castle's pillow were gone. Looking for him, Kate crossed through the dark office and walked out into the living room, only to find Castle camped on the couch, a big bulge protruding from under the thick duvet.

"Castle, come to bed."

"Leave me alone," he said dryly.

"Castle!"

"I said no!"

"Then, scoot over." The man didn't move. "Castle, I told you to make me some room!" Beckett didn't wait for him to make the gesture. She shoved him away herself, pushing him toward the back of the sofa, and then quickly laid down next to him, stealing half the duvet to cover herself and resting her head on the corner of his pillow.

"Dammit, Kate!"

"Shut up." Rolling onto her side, Beckett snuggled behind him and, even though he resisted, she hugged him tightly.

"Beckett, leave me alone!" He tried to get rid of the arms she had wrapped around his middle like a vise.

"Castle, no. I'd rather set up camp with you in this cramped space on the couch than sleep alone in that huge bed."

"You're gonna pay for this," he mumbled.

She chuckled once under her breath and pressed her lips to his shoulder blade. "One day, you'll be laughing about this." They were quiet for a minute but then Kate spoke again. "Castle?"

"_What."_

She hesitated for a second, but then said, "We still have to finish watching the movie."

* * *

**Thanks very much :)**


	14. (IN)ACTIVE

**A/N: I dearly hope I didn't miss any typos. It's always so embarrassing to reread my stories and find mistakes. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.**

* * *

14. (IN)ACTIVE

* * *

Beckett finished tying up the lace of her right sneaker and rose from the light blue and gray striped armchair. As she walked past the end of the bed, she tickled the sole of Castle's foot, which peeked out from under the wrinkled sheets. He flicked the foot away instantly and grunted low.

Kate pulled the curtains apart and opened the French double doors, allowing the rays of the morning sun —still low over the ocean— to invade the bedroom. The cool, salty breeze caressed her bare arms and softly blew back her hair. She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the pure air that smelled of sand and sea. A beautiful morning of a beautiful day in a beautiful place, she thought, the closest place to paradise she knew. But then she turned around and clicked her tongue; such a waste spending it sleeping.

In four short strides, she stepped over to Castle's side of the bed. He lay on his belly, his left arm stretched down along his body, the right dangling from the edge of the mattress. The left side of his face was sunken into the pillow, his left cheek scrunched up against his nose and his lips slightly parted and asymmetrically crooked, deforming his —otherwise— handsome face. All in all, a charming picture. Lie; she rolled her eyes skyward.

"Castle…" she sang, dragging out the first syllable. No response from his part. "Castle, come on. Wake up!"

She threw the sheets down the bed and playfully drummed his ass repeatedly with both her hands. A second low, complaining groan rumbled deep inside his chest. He tried to pull the sheets back up, failed, and, instead, turned his head to the other side, away from the sun light and away from her.

"Castle, get up now!"

"Argh… Why?" he muttered into the pillowcase, refusing to open his eyes.

"It's time for some exercise."

"What time is it, anyway…"

"Seven-fifteen."

"Kate!" he whined. "Seven-fifteen? Really? Jeez… Just let me sleep! I already exercised yesterday!"

"You call that exercise? Fifteen abdominal crunches and two pushups?" Castle said nothing, pretending to be asleep again. "You wanted to lose some pounds and asked me to be your personal trainer, so you'll do what you're told."

"I'm on vacation…" he argued some more.

"You're always on vacation. Your life is a vacation."

He chuckled groggily and sluggishly under his breath. Patience Kate, patience. Exhaling a puff of air through her mouth, she walked into the closet, grabbed him a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt and his sneakers. When she came back into the bedroom, Castle was again covered with the sheets pulled up to his chin, huddled in the middle of the big mattress. Beckett let out a long, long sigh.

"Come on…" she said, throwing the clothes at him onto the bed. "Get up and get dressed. You have five minutes."

"What will you give me in return?" Castle mumbled, with his eyes still closed. "I'm gonna need a good incentive that motivates me."

"Your motivation is that you'll be burning calories."

"If it's only a matter of burning calories, I know another very effective method. And we can do it lying on the bed."

"If you have enough energy for _that_, you also have it to go jog." Kate grabbed the sheets by their lower end, gave them a sharp tug and threw them to the floor.

Tensing his body and stretching out his legs lengthwise, he turned to lay back face down across the mattress, bending and pulling his arms tight against either side of his waist, and hiding his face between the two pillows.

"Castle!" she shouted with authority, smacking her hand flat against the mattress.

"Beckett, I'm tired! I wanna sleep," he babbled into the pillows, his voice sounding muted and dull.

Kate stepped to one side of the bed and leaned forward over the edge to whisper near his ear. "Sleeping won't help you get rid of these fat rolls," she poked his side, making him arch his body in the opposite direction.

Castle ended up rolling over and sitting up in the middle of the bed, bleary-eyed, tousled hair, spiky ends flattened to the right, and red marks from the sheets across both his cheeks. He stared at her with crystal clear annoyance displayed on his face, narrowing his eyes, frowning his brows and pursing his lips, and showing no sign of even wanting to consider starting to change into his workout outfit.

"If you don't hurry up," she continued, pointing a firm finger to his face, "the sun will be too high and it'll be too hot."

"I like it better when you wake me up with a kiss," he muttered, moody and grumpy.

Kate bit down on her lip but a small grin still leaked onto her face. Climbing onto the mattress, she rose to her knees and brought her puckered lips close to Castle's.

"No, I don't want it anymore," he murmured, turning his head away from her. Beckett leaned back for a moment but then, in a swift movement, she grabbed his face with both hands and whipped it toward her to give him a good smooch on the mouth.

* * *

It took her another twenty minutes to get Castle to strip off his pajamas and get dressed, but she finally managed to drag him out of the house.

"Come on, fatty boy," she encouraged mockingly in broken syllables over her shoulder, her sneakers crunching softly into the sand with each stride. "You're falling behind. Keep up!"

The sun had climbed further up in the sky and Beckett felt her entire body covered with a slick, thin layer of sweat.

"Oh— ah! Stop!" Castle panted heavily a moment later. "I can't— any— anymore."

She stopped a few steps ahead and turned to him. The sharp sun light blinded her and she had to squint her eyes and raise a hand to her forehead, improvising a shielding visor. He was ten feet back, doubled over at the waist, his hands resting on his knees, and his chest rising and falling with each loud, laboured pull of air.

"Castle, we just left. We didn't even make it half a mile."

"Well… I still can't."

"This way you won't get fit," she remarked, approaching him. "You're barely even sweating."

"Well, my bod— my body has a very accurate sense of self-acclimatization."

Ha, very funny. She ran the back of her hand across her forehead —the temperature, like the sun, was escalating at a high speed— and looked around.

"Alright. Let's make it to that rock over there and then head back, okay?"

Castle tilted his head up to look at where she was pointing and eventually nodded.

On their way back, Kate slowed down to a gentle jog so Castle could easily run alongside her, but, two hundred yards from the mansion, she stole a quick glance at him out of the corner of her eye and her lips curled up into a little smirk.

"Race you to the house!" And she shot off in the same instant, sprinting ahead of him. She soon heard Castle speeding up too, but, besides having a good head start, she was used to run after fleeing suspects; he was no match for her.

"Ow!" Castle's cry suddenly cut through the crash of the waves and reached her ears, followed immediately by a soft thudding sound. "Kate! Ouch… I hurt myself, it hurts."

She came to a sudden stop and quickly retraced her steps back to where Castle was lying face up on the sand, the features of his face contorted into an expression of pain.

"What is it?"

"I pulled a muscle," he answered in a strangled voice, gently rubbing his right calf.

"Let me see." Beckett moved in front of him, standing between his feet. "Stretch your le—EEEH!"

In the blink of an eye, she found herself lying flat on the ground and gazing up at the blue sky. Castle had surprised her with a lateral drop sweep, knocking her off her feet and sending her backwards onto the sand, the blow stealing all the air out of her lungs. After a brief moment of astonishment, she propped herself up on one elbow and located Castle. His ass was already making his way back to the house, his triumphant laughter trailing behind him, being carried by the sea breeze.

Ooh, so that's how it was going to be, uh? He wanted to play dirty? Well, good, she thought, two could play this game.

"Hey!" Rolling onto her stomach, she kneeled to all fours and, from that crouching position, propelled herself forward, kicking her legs into max gear. "CHEATER!"

"Nope!" he chuckled proudly over his shoulder. "I'm just smart and cunning!"

With a layer of sand stuck to the sweat-coated skin along her entire backside, she sprinted up the beach in pursuit and soon caught up with Castle. Three feet from him, she jumped high in the air and lunged forward at his back, pouncing on him like a cat on a mouse. The two plunged downward as one, Castle uttering a breathless groan of protest when he smashed face down into the irregular surface of the beach, her weight sinking him deeper into the sandy dunes. She didn't waste a single second in pushing herself up above Castle's body, stumbling over him until she regained her footing, and continued moving forward across the small mounds of the beach, accelerating again to a fast racing speed. With every long, quick stride, the grains of sand flew up and bit into the back of her bare legs.

When Kate reached the swimming pool terrace, she ventured slowing down to a light trot and peered over her shoulder. Castle had just uprighted himself and was starting to walk toward the house with clumsy and uncoordinated steps, slowly climbing up the small hill.

* * *

She was leaning against the kitchen's island counter, emptying with big gulps a bottle of cold water she had taken from the fridge, when Castle walked in, shuffling his feet and panting.

"That was not fair," he said voiceless, slumping down onto one of the upholstered chairs around the dining table and kicking his sneakers off.

"Tit for tat, _fatty boy_," she let the last two words roll deliciously off her tongue.

"I have sand—" he shook his head and tiny grains of white sand rained down from his hair to the floor, "—up to my ears."

Kate wiped the water mustache on her upper lip with her forearm and simply smirked openly at him. Then she pulled another bottle from the fridge and tossed it over to Castle. His reflexes were too slow, though, and the bottle slipped from his fingers and bounced at his feet.

"We're done exercising for today, aren't we?" he asked, unscrewing the bottle's cap and taking a swig of water.

"I hoped not," she said, sitting down on the chair opposite him. Castle looked at her radiating despair. Kate drank another mouthful before adding, "I was thinking about a second workout session in the bedroom, hmm? Unless you're too tired." She shrugged nonchalantly.

The right corner of Castle's lips twitched up in a sly smile. "Well… As my personal trainer, I suppose I should follow your wise orders, right?" She nodded, totally in agreement with him and as if there was no other alternative. "But I'll be taking a shower, first."

"Not if I beat you there." Kate pulled a straight face and fixed him with a challenging look.

His smile faded into an expression of alertness. Sliding slowly to the edge of the seat, she flicked one foot forward, as if ready to set off running again, eliciting him to jump off his chair and dash down the corridor. She smiled and slightly shook her head, and waited until she heard the echo of his victorious cry as he reached the bathroom. Then, she stood up and followed at her own leisurely pace, leaving a trail of clothes behind her.

* * *

**Hope you liked it ;)**


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